Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Month Six: Deleted Scenes!

I have two images living in my mind lately: number one is a pregnant woman in heels and a (maternity) business suit, working at a high powered Office Job, taking good care of her family on evenings and weekends. Image number two is that damn woman in the rice paddy that I keep hearing about: one kid strapped to her back, pausing for 10 minutes to give birth to her next kid before getting back to work. These images tend to pop up just as I lie down for yet another little rest.

I had a big deadline last Friday (which, for procrastinators like me means a lot of work in a little time), hosted a book club meeting Friday, taught a class Saturday, hosted a dinner Sunday, and was back at work Monday morning. In planning for this crazy week, I knew that if I pushed myself as hard as I could, I'd just work myself into a worthless lump, so I made a Plan. I'd work a few hours every morning, take a long siesta midday, work a few more hours in the afternoon or evening, and maybe achieve a balance of health and productivity that way. Well, I did make it through the week, met my deadline, taught the class, and had a nice time at the social events, but it's now Wednesday and I'm still feeling crappy. So crappy, I decided it was worth the ten bucks and the loss of quality in produce to get groceries delivered. So crappy, I decided to take the day completely off. What the hell is wrong with me?

Well, to be perfectly honest, it's not a complete mystery. My pregnant body obviously has more serious needs for food, water, and rest than it used to, but at the same time it's somehow gotten a lot less demanding about those needs. My hungry/thirsty/tired cues are way more subtle than they used to be. If I'm focusing on something else and don't notice the tiny shift in sensation that (it turns out) means,"Fooooood! Foodfoodfoodfood nowwwwwww!" then the little twinge goes away and does not return. The same for thirsty and tired. So I carry on, feeling fine, eating/drinking/resting only as it occurs to me to do so and the chickens don't come home to roost until days later, when suddenly, I'm too tired to be hungry, too thirsty to eat, and too hungry to fall asleep.

Which I guess is why I do the best when I'm just farting around, being unproductive, with plenty of mental space to register those twinges. If I want to be a high-powered rice paddy executive, it looks like I have to be more proactive in the whole keeping-body-and-soul-together department. Crap.

So, I'm spending the day in bed, blogging. Lucky you.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

The world wide web was listless without your guffaw inducing prose. I scared the cats I laughed so much reading the stroller story. You rock on with your bad pregnant lady self.