Dean and I had a tough decision to make this year. His family in Illinois wanted to see us. We’re in Tennessee and have had several (SEVERAL) discussions about the safety of traveling.

Although we would only be in contact with Dean’s immediate family, we still hadn’t seen them all year, we weren’t in each other’s bubbles and Tennessee is now a the COVID capital of the world, there were risks.

We made sure to contact each member of Dean’s immediate family individually, not only to ensure that they were taking precautionary measures but also that they were comfortable with our safety practices. We didn’t want anyone to be branded ‘Grinch’ by the rest of the family for asking us to stay home, and we also wanted to be sure that we were comfortable with their daily habits. Everyone knew how careful we were being, everyone promised to be careful themselves, everyone really wanted us to come.

We still discussed it. The worst was determining what exactly it would take for us to call off Christmas. Because we realized that it would come down to us. No one would tell us no. The onus was on us to be extra cautious.

We have two kittens, one of whom is an absolute anxiety ball in the car, so driving straight was not a healthy option for him, although we didn’t rule it out. I did some preliminary research on hotels, then handed that task over to Dean as I’m working three part time jobs at the moment. We researched at least a dozen hotels, we narrowed it down and Dean called all five before we found one that we were comfortable with. We were really impressed with what they had to say about their precautions although I vowed to reserve judgement until we got there.

I felt safer in that hotel than I do at one of my places of employment. I’m exceedingly glad we’ve found it.

This isn’t what my post is about though.

This entry is how I didn’t leave myself a moment to breath in the days leading up to our departure. I suppose I felt the need to throw the previous paragraphs in so that you would focus on what I want to talk about rather than wondering whether or not I was safe. I promise I’m being as safe as possible.

I didn’t request any time off other than the days already marked as holidays. I don’t get PTO. Which meant I had a few assignments that I had to complete to ‘justify’ not having a paid holiday when one of the gyms was closed. Not only that, I was given sub classes for another gym for an instructor who was going to be out of town. I wasn’t asked if I wanted them, they were just put on my schedule because I had done them during the Thanksgiving holiday week and because I didn’t specifically request those days off. I could have protested, but I decided that the extra money wouldn’t hurt, and technically they fit. However, when I did this during the Thanksgiving holiday, I hadn’t been working that third job.

This will be fine, I thought. Work really hard and earn the long weekend.

I love being contacted by my friends at any time if they think I can help them or if they just want to say hi. I always tell people, if I’m asleep, my phone will be on silent. If I’m working, I’ll answer you when I’m able to. Contact me any time.

I knew I was feeling pressed when a friend messaged me on Messenger and asked if I could remind him how to create a group that he could just email through Gmail without typing in the individual addresses. He remembered that I had done it years before. It didn’t occur to him to Google it, he just knew that I had done it and asked. I was in the midst of telling him that I didn’t have time and maybe I could look into it later in the evening, but I was just so slammed. I stopped myself, deleted what I had written, Googled some how to instructions and sent him a link. Everyone has time for that. But the fact that it stressed me out to be asked gave me pause.

Packing is the worst for me. I don’t mind packing to return home because it’s just a matter of rounding up anything that I own and finding space for it in my luggage. I hate packing to leave. Especially when you’re going to a cold climate. It involves a lot more space and a lot more guesswork.

Am I going to be brave enough to run outside in 20 degree weather? Well I guess this is why I kept all of this cold weather running gear. Suddenly half of my duffle bag is taken up with sub zero running gear. Well, Thursday is going to be a low of 9 and a high of 20. Been a while since I’ve been in those temperatures, so probably my warmest sweaters, right? Rest of the duffle. No room for shoes, toiletries. Etc. It’s fine. I make a packing list. I have a checklist. The checklist calms me.

Knee deep into the final throes of stress packing - after working all the jobs - the night before we left. a friend texted me asking if I was going to be reading a piece at the virtual writers group the next day. I was not, I was going to be on the road. There was a bit of small talk before I basically said there was no way I was attending the meeting as I was going to be ‘balls to the wall’ until the moment I left. Because I felt slightly guilty about missing the group, I gave her a quick run down of my itinerary, which involved leaving the house at 5:30am, coming back at 3pm, at which point we would throw the kittens into the car and leave. I was also planning on working in the car. She said, “Meredith, that’s too much.”

I didn’t want to arrive empty handed, so I found time to make ginger bread cookies.

I agreed.

That’s I realized, this is how I’ve always been. At least as far back in my adulthood as I can remember. Right before a vacation, it’s as if I’m doing penance for the fact that I’m going to have a few days of rest. I’m sure some of this stems from the fact that for over a decade I’ve worked in a profession that doesn’t come with paid vacation or sick time. Anytime I take time off, not only am I spending money on a vacation, I’m not earning any. I’ve also been on my own for most of my adult life. Dean and I have only been married five years. So all expenses were my expenses for a very long time. And I’ve always kind of enjoyed that exhausted feeling of a rest well earned.

However.

I remember when Dean and I got married, I vowed to take it a little easier. Spend more time with friends and family. Take a cheap flight if I came across one. I had someone to share the expenses now. Someone to watch Jake (at the time) if I wanted to go see my parents for a short visit or take a short acting gig out of town. And Dean was perfectly willing to do those things.

In the months immediately surrounding our wedding, I tried to act on this. I never took any crazy time off, but I went to see my parents for a long weekend in November a few weeks before going to see Dean’s parents’ for Thanksgiving. We went back to my parents for Christmas, stayed in town for January and then had our honeymoon in February. In March I got an acting gig. I tried to sub out two classes for it. I was told I had been subbing out too much and I was going to now have these classes taken away from me. Mind you, I had not subbed out more than once a month for the past four months. Prior to that, it had been years that I had been with this company and maybe subbed out once or twice a year. Usually working right up until I got on the plane and only taking off when the gyms were closed for the holiday.

A picture I took of picking persimmons that one time I took advantage of a cheap flight to see my family.

I spoke to the general manager of one of the gyms I was being let go from. He said that he thought my responses to the rather brusque email we had all received were very eloquent and that if it were up to him he would keep me on. (Eventually, they did let me say at that place. I was pulling in record numbers for kickboxing.) He also said that it wasn’t up to him.

Perhaps it was something about that experience, but now, whenever the holidays come around, I say yes to every sub class as long as it’s physically possible to get myself there. I end up getting less sleep and letting some of the personal things I want to do go (like writing), but I always get everything done.

What the hell am I doing?

I realized Wednesday morning when I was going through my jam-packed day, after I had finished the workout that I wondered where I would cram in, that I hadn’t scheduled time for myself to shower. That I’d also left my carefully packed breakfast and lunch in the refrigerator at home. Fortunately for me, the final class that I was due to sub had all no-shows. I was able to gas up the car early and get enough done so that I was able to have my shower and eat lunch. (Thankfully, one of my clients had given me a Starbucks gift card the day before, so breakfast was taken care of. Lunch I just had late.)

Did I mention that I had my laptop out and was working through most of the drive out of town?

Maybe this struck me harder this year because we’ve had The Great Slowdown. Maybe it’s because there have been fewer students in the live classes and I’ve had more one on one conversations and have realized how much of them take the weeks leading up to the end of the year to chill out a bit. Maybe it’s because one of the jobs that I have now is actually encouraging us to take time for ourselves until January 2nd. But I’m noticing that the end of the year usually slows down a little for most people.

I love that. I would like that.

I’m not one for resolutions, if there’s something I want to do, I start doing it right away. No point in setting an arbitrary date. But I think if I do make one this year, it will be to take some time for myself. Life is short. There’s no way of knowing how much time we have.

I’d be really pissed if my life ended anytime soon and all I had done was kill myself for the ‘future.’

And I don’t want to die pissed.

Earning the right to relax