This essay has no real answers
Mostly just questions...
Why am I so tired? Question number one.
I had a lovely weekend. On Thursday evening, Dylan and I flew to Boston and spent the night with dear friends. We sipped wine and whiskey, watched Love Is Blind, and stayed up way too late. On Friday we took a leisurely drive down to the Cape, swinging by Plymouth to stop at a delightful little brewery that had great beers, service, and merch; and since we were already there, we made a point to see the legendary rock (it was smaller than expected).
Then, down to Hyannis for a wedding – the reason we were up there in the first place. And what with the welcome party Friday night, brunch with a coworker the next morning, and the wedding and after-party later that evening, the weekend went by in a flash. So much fun, so much drinking and dancing and catching up with people we hadn’t seen in a while. We even made new friends. Next thing we knew we were on a plane again, heading back to D.C.
So although I was in bed by 10 p.m. on Sunday night, I woke up on Monday feeling the effects of the weekend like a heavy weight. I felt unprepared even for the usual load: The news to catch up on and interviews to prep for and meetings to attend and words to conjure and make coherent; the family to stay in touch with and meals to cook and laundry to do. By that evening, I wasn’t just overwhelmed. I also felt like I was only managing to do things half-assed.
Then duty called at the journalism organization I volunteer at, needing me to step in on a tricky ethics issue that’s going to take weeks to navigate. Someone from my high school reached out, telling me they live and work in the area and would love to connect this week. Emails related to wedding planning piled up while I was away, and suddenly it seemed like every time I responded to one of them I got three more in return. A concert we’d bought tickets for months ago is suddenly here, and of course I forgot about it entirely and had to move stuff around to re-accommodate it.
I’m not complaining, exactly; I recognize that some of these are first-world problems and others aren’t problems at all. And I know that in so many ways and for so many reasons, life is very good to me right now. But I do feel a little beleaguered… and bewildered.
If life is so good, why do I feel so swamped by it? Question number two.
We forgot to buy fresh flowers this week, so our vases are full of mucky water and dead carnations. The house hasn’t been cleaned beyond a cursory wipe-and-sweep in at least a week. It is Tuesday as I write this, and I’m currently eating dinner out of a food storage container because I can’t be bothered to dirty a bowl. It makes me think: Is this just the cost of taking an extra day last week and spending a weekend in fun and leisure? Question number three.
It also makes me wonder how parents do it, juggling all this life stuff with the raising of children. Or people with elderly relatives to care for, or even pets, or plants (living ones, anyway). As someone with none of those responsibilities, should I be ashamed of myself for falling behind – or being anything but grateful? Question number four.
The typical Messay answers would be: (1) You’re tired because you didn’t get much rest over the weekend and you have a lot going on. (2) You’re feeling swamped because your life is busy, filled with things and people you care about, which is a normal reaction. (3) No, you’re not being punished for enjoying yourself for a few days. (4) And you absolutely should not be ashamed – you are not perfect, it’s OK to not be thriving all the time, and your feelings are valid.
I know those answers are right and true. And yet somehow, today, they don’t feel very satisfying.
When Sam and I started this newsletter, we wanted to write about all the ways we’ve experienced life and adulthood to be messy and imperfect. And we do talk about our anxieties and our fears, and share the many ways that our day-to-day existence is plagued by mistakes and uncertainty and plain old bad judgment. But I also know that she and I are both optimists at heart. And so we can’t help but write about our attempts at solutions, or resolutions, to those moments of falling apart. Here’s a story, or an app, or a study that is helping me deal with this thing, that is helping me clean up this mess I made.
And it’s great. It helps us process what we’re going through and keeps us looking forward, if not always moving forward. (And it seems you all enjoy the vibe. Thanks for reading!)
But folks, not today. Today is about embracing the mess and not trying to turn to a quote or a book or a podcast to help fix it. Today is about knowing that this week I am not going to get every single thing done. The house is probably going to stay dirty. And I’m not going to handle it gracefully when Dylan comes to me with his own (also very valid) work stress.
This essay is for the times when the to-do list just won’t get any shorter and we can’t see our way past it. It’s for the weeks when even the extra effort somehow falls short, every little thing seems to pile up, and we can’t seem to catch a break. It’s for the days when we have to force ourselves to lean into the feelings that aren’t so great, because it takes too much energy to fight it. It’s for the moments when we lift our eyes to the sky and ask Why? and How do I do this? and What the fuck?
Today, the only answer I have to those questions is: I don’t know, dude.
But I do know you’re not alone.
So, question number five: Want to be a mess together?
Small victories 🏅
The tiniest of victories this week: Writing this essay in time to send to Sam for edits before she does her own weekend away on Friday. I gotta be honest, I wasn’t sure I had it in me this round. So here’s to powering through!
Hot mess recs 🔥
Speaking of powering through, I’ve started listening to the audiobook version of Machiavelli for Women written and read by Stacey Vanek Smith. (You may know her as a former correspondent for NPR’s Planet Money and host of The Indicator.) The book is about how women can learn from Niccolo Machiavelli in order to take and hang onto power in the workplace. It’s full of history and fascinating interpretations of Machiavellian philosophy and most importantly, actionable information for the present day. If you’re feeling on the back foot at work, this is a good one!
One phrase that keeps popping up in Sam’s life is this important reminder: “No” is a complete sentence. Sam tends to fall more on the leave-me-alone-in-my-hamster-ball end of the introvert/extrovert spectrum, yet she often finds herself overcommitting to invitations and opportunities. They’re all good things! She wants to do them! But she’s also found that having too many good things going on is a recipe for disaster. It’s a helpful reminder that it’s okay to say no sometimes, and it doesn’t require excuses, justifications, or going overboard with apologies. And in politely declining once in a while, she’s created a lot more space for herself. Give yourself permission to give it a try.
Send us a note 💌
What do you think of our newsletter? What do you find helpful, or think is boring, or you wish we shared more about? We want to know, because your opinions matter to us. Drop us a line at goshdarnmess@gmail.com.
I’m going to go pass out in bed now. See you in two weeks!
Jess