I Thought I Was A Grownup

I guess I didn’t make it. Technically, I mean.

It’s past midnight, so technically I didn’t get my 500 words in on the 21st of November. I guess I could beat myself up about it, but I’m just too damn tired.

My day, though, in my own mind, is the time from when I get up to when I crawl into bed. So I think I’m alright.

This renovation is kicking my butt. In spite of all the evidence to the contrary, I still think that I can do all the stuff I used to be able to do when I was healthier. So I take on more work than I can handle.

In this case, way more work.

And sometimes I stay up working so far past my cut off time that I am afraid I’ll ruin what health I do have.

I thought I would have gotten it by now, but no.

I still think I can work like I did when I was growing up on the farm. There were some sunup to sundown days, and, although I complained, I didn’t have any trouble getting it done.

Or at least in my 30s, when my health was starting a slow but steady decline. I could still get it done.

Not anymore.

And it sucks. In some way, it feels like my “manliness” drained out of me the way my health has.

Today, though, I realized where I am at. There are things that I thought I’d be able to do that I won’t be able to. So, I sat down (technically we were standing up) with one of the construction people I’m employing, and we went over what he could take off my plate.

While a part of me felt a huge relief when he said he could take quite a few things on, I am still feeling a bit useless.

And by a bit, I mean totally.

I’m not sure why I have such a hard time letting this stuff go. I’m sure it has something to do with my (step) dad. I still hear his voice, from time to time.

“Man was put on this earth to work. The worst thing in this world is to be willing to work and not have work to do.”

I always thought he was overstating things, and I kind of tended towards goofing off, anyway. And yet here I am: 50 years old and not able to let it go.

I do have a rational part of my brain. I think. There is a part of me that says well, your situation has changed, and it’s been like this for quite a few years already. You should get over it, already.

I can give myself all the talks I want about accepting reality for what it is. If I think about it enough, I can talk myself into – or out of – things.

And then I have a day like today, where I work way too hard for way too long. And I’ll be paying for it for a long time.

Somehow I thought I would have grown up by now.

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