I am sooOOooo tired!

Dear Sis,

I’ve given a lot of thought to the opinion you expressed the other day about my feeling exhausted all of the time. In case you don’t recall, you said that you think that my mantra, "I’m so tired. I’m soooooo tired. I’m so, so, so, so tired," chanted pretty much any time I’m awake, becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. You think that if I’m getting enough sleep ("enough," of course, being a relative term; but I am getting more sleep than I used to), I really shouldn’t be tired all of the time, and therefore, I am tired only because I tell myself I’m tired.

Having given your remarks a lot of consideration, this morning I tried to make a change. I was ready for work. Well, I mean, I was dressed for work and pretty much ready to leave my house. I was not ready in the larger sense of the word. Oh, and I was already pretty late, so I needed to get a move on. This led, naturally, to me giving into the inexorable pull of the couch. I slumped onto my side, half prostrate, but with my feet still on the floor, and began the internal chant. 

After repeating the "I’m tired" chant for awhile, I thought about you, and I decided to give it a try. I changed my chant to "I’m so energized! I’m so eager and excited to go to work. I feel so energetic! I’m going to just bounce right up from this couch and go to work. I feel so...[I was trying to find a synonym for "energetic," but couldn’t]...energetic! I feel [pause for another word again]...bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy. Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun! I’m just so excited about work today! I hate all of this lying around. I’m getting off the couch...NOW! [Still lying on couch.] Yes, I’m going to get up right...this...minute! [Not so much.] Because I’m so full of energy! I just feel great! I can’t wait to go to work. I’m the essence of pure energy! I’m getting up right now!"

This went on for quite some time, finally ending with, "I can't wait to go out and greet to-DAY!" This was so ludicrous and so over-the-top that I then croaked, out loud, "Oh, god,’ with such resignation that I sounded much more like Eeyore than like Tigger. Which made me laugh out loud. A dull, hollow laugh, mind you.

I did finally get up. I left for work. It was not one of my better arrival times. Oh, but hey! I went about 65 mph the whole way and stayed out of the fast lane. So that was good. Right?

[Except for the two driving incidents that I *didn't* tell you about. And you don't want to know. The ending was, "I lived."]

Have a blessed day!

Love, 

Sis