Anyway--I had a terribly productive weekend. I did all my laundry AND all My ironing (not my husband's) Finally filed my own bills, papers and whatnots. Brought down my box of Halloween decorations, split it into a pile for home and a pile for work and put the house things around--even decided to weed some of it by passing it on to other people. Tidied other bits of the house not involved in the above, including my poor neglected sewing room. Wrote all those blog entries AND modified a graphic for work.
I felt very powerful and excited about things and made plans for all sorts of things I could continue to do in the nights and weekends ahead. Oh, and went out and enjoyed sushi and Indian Summer with my husband.
Tonight I worked until 6:30, came home and went back out to drive around a house (may go back to look at it on Wednesday). Washed the towels we dirtied cleaning on Sunday, changed the bed linens, repaired two comforters, put a necklace drop on a different cord, made the world's simplest shrug (cut open a knit tube) that was so simple I have an urge to run out and by two yards in every color, did some hand sewing repairs I'd put off for ages, ironed a shirt for my husband (aren't I nice?), took a bath and am now here. Typing this. (We ate fast food out in case you're wondering).
The problem is that I don't feel like this often or for very long. The last time I can remember being this productive was in June or maybe July (I know I blogged about it) when I made that dress (which I did finish). It's very cyclical. Men can stop reading, but for a good two weeks of the month I feel so tired I barely function when I get home. And, it's very much the P of PMS. The moment it's current MS it's like a switch is thrown and I feel better. And every few months I get a week like this. It's not that I feel manic (still sleeping lots, not spending money I don't have--or no more than usual--etc.) or even euphoric, it's just that I feel that things are possible and manageable so worth starting and finishing projects. I feel excited to be doing things and a desire to be doing things--not vegging in front of the TV.
It's been like this for a long time. So I get very excited for a week, or maybe a week and a half and I finish things and I get set up to do other things, and then I wake up a little more tired or a little more achy, or even worse, just a little more hopeless--where I start to wonder what difference it makes in the world if I make that dress, or have a dusted house, or write, and then the projects and plans just settle on top of what's already there like so much sediment. Until the next time when I might dig off that layer, but never quite get to the really big stuff.
I wonder if people feel like this all the time and how nice that must be.