GISHWHES was amazing. My team pulled together despite several members getting new jobs, moving across the world, having job-related distress, and a number of other small calamities to produce some crazy times and fun art.
I personally performed at least 24 tasks by my own tally, which is way more than I probably should have.
We had a great time and I don't have a lot of regrets this year, mostly just a couple of tweaks to make sure things are even better next year.
Also, I am glad I opted to skip the items that required 10-15 people when I can't even get 5 together at one time. Those ones are not for me, obviously.
And now, just like after any big marathon of mental stress (GISHWHES, Nanowrimo, any huge project), part of me wants to take a break and relax for a minute while another part wants to sleep the sleep of the dead.
My daughter has fallen asleep. my husband is working overnight tonight. It's just us. I could do anything. I could write or edit or stream whatever I want. I could study or sew or stuff a sock monkey. There are a thousand things that I can do but the biggest flashing sign in my head is SLEEP.
Yet I am reluctant. I know I need the rest, but I know the sleep that looms ahead of me and it is the sleep of depression. It's the wake-up-at-noon-and-hate-yourself sleep that I just do not need today. Or ever.
A thousand things to do, but I can't pick one.
Except sleep.
And I watched a stupid creepy show so now my subconscious is convinced sleep will lure voodoo witches out from whatever nether-realm, despite the fact that voodoo in Shiogama is not really a thing. It is not unlike the paranoia of my childhood self, taking poorly construed re-enactments from Unsolved Mysteries as nightmare fuel.
So maybe I will stay up making crafts and watching Netflix things my husband has no interest in.
Until dawn.
Then I will sleep the short sleep of the winded woman.
Yay.
No comments:
Post a Comment