Today started with a familiar rumble, the big generator ran for around 9 hours on 5 gallons of gas and shut off just before 7:30am, which conveniently became my wake-up call.
My neck? Way better. Barely a twinge this morning and I think I can skip the painkillers today. Small victories, right?
But overall… I’m running on empty. No spark. I don’t know if it’s the cloudy skies or just the social drain from yesterday’s people-ing, but I’ve got that weird combination of burnout and apathy humming in the background. Motivation packed its bags and ghosted me.
S
o instead of pushing myself, I leaned into one of my comfort rituals: setting up my next bullet journal. It’s technically not due until July 2025, but this kind of prep work calms my mind and fills my cup. Pens, paper, layouts, it’s self-care that doesn’t feel like effort.
I did putter outside for a bit. Spread mulch over the sandy patch in front of the 5th wheel, nothing fancy, just trying to add structure to the ground over time. Later, I laid cardboard as a weed block and mulched the strip behind the veggie beds. Not urgent jobs, but doing something helped cut through the fog.
Still no word from the guy helping with the well, my friend’s husband. I hate chasing people when they’re doing me a favor, but that old familiar fear is creeping in: what if he flakes? What if I’ve counted on help that’s not coming? I’m trying not to spiral, but it’s hard not to feel let down by people who overpromise and underdeliver.
On the dating front, I brought up my concerns with the new guy, about the coffee meet-up idea that rubbed me wrong. To his credit, he responded well. Turns out he had a lunch plan all along, just didn’t communicate it well. I appreciated the honesty, and I’m meeting him tomorrow.
Still, I’m hesitant. There are lingering feelings from my last relationship, the chaos I tolerated, the peace I sacrificed. I cared about someone who never chose calm, and I ended up blaming myself for their storm. I know I can’t go back there, but part of me still grieves what could never be.
Eventually, I scrounged up a bit of motivation, found it hiding somewhere between the couch cushions and a craving for closure, and burned some yard trash. At least one small chore done.
I’ve only got two days left before my next trip. Sunday’s booked, so Monday and Wednesday are it. I’d better start making that prep list… once I remember where I left my brain.