The past few days I’ve been in a fog. I’ve been unable to focus on pretty much anything. I’m better in the mornings, about an hour or so after I wake up, but as the day progresses, my cognitive abilities diminish quickly.
Despite the fog, there’s always something I have to accomplish. I’ve slacked off on so much. Housework? Out the window. As far as I’m concerned, burn the place down and let’s start from scratch. Personal hygeine? I’ll shower when my skin just gets to the point that it is so gross I can’t stand it anymore, but not a day before (it takes a while for that to happen…not that I don’t feel gross after a few days, but I don’t have the gumption to care). The one thing I can’t ignore is the stuff I get paid to do. How I wish I could ignore that.
I often bite off more than I can chew. It’s something that I’ve always done. I’ll get an idea and open my mouth to express the idea without really thinking it through. Or, alternatively, someone will ask if I can do something and I’ll say, “sure, of course I can,” without stopping to consider if I really can or not.
The most recent example comes from work.
Back in March I was hired to work at a small, local shop that I absolutely adore. This is a new age, metaphysical shop. Right up my alley (I’ve been pagan for about two decades now). I was ecstatic to be hired.
About a month after I was hired, the owner told me she wanted me to be her store manager. I’m not sure what prompted this, but hey, who am I to argue? I’ve got management experience, and more than that, I have knowledge of the product that she sells.
Anyway, fast forward to now.
We are less than a week from the next Sabbat on the Wheel of the Year (more on that in a later post, I’m sure). A week, maybe two weeks, ago, the owner came to me and said she wanted to do something for the Sabbats. The owner is not pagan, so she defers to me on things that have to do with paganism. That’s fine. I have no problem sharing my knowledge, and even less of a problem admitting when I don’t know something about it. Her first thought was to do a sale. Her second thought was to do grab boxes. I liked the idea of grab boxes, so I jumped on it.
When I say I jumped on it, I mean that I grabbed the idea, ran, and didn’t really stop running.
“What if, instead of grab boxes, we do GIFT boxes? A small collection of things directly associated with the Sabbats. Oh! We can do so many cool things about the Sabbats!” And I came up with lists. I can write a small history/description of the Sabbats. Oh! This one is a harvest celebration! We can do bread mixes! Corn dollies! Don’t forget the candles, incense, crystals! Everything a practitioner would need for a small ritual or celebration of the season!
So, how have I spent the past few days?
I’ve been painting small crates. I’ve been weaving/gluing ribbon on said crates. I’ve sewn linings for the crates and glued the linings in (they don’t look great, but I’ve been rushed). With the help of my wonderful husband, I’ve put together bread mixes. I’ve dried fruits. I’ve baked said bread to make sure it’s a good recipe. I made my first corn dolly to make sure the instructions were easy to follow.
Holy cow, guys. I’m done. I mean, I’m not done with this project, but good lord, I’m done.
For the next Sabbat (which is in September)… Well, I plan on starting this one earlier. Like. As soon as this Sabbat is done, I’m going to be getting everything ready for the next one.
This is on top of having to hire one to two people for the holiday season. This is in addition to the charity work that the owner likes to have us do. This is alongside having to set up for the city’s scarecrow walk (we still haven’t decided how we want to decorate our scarecrows). This is with being the store manager, but because we are understaffed, also being a customer service assistant, and a cashier.
Y’all. I bit off more than I can chew.
Thank the gods I have my husband. Every hour or so he asks me what he can do to help and if I don’t have an answer for him (I usually don’t), he finds some way to help me.
I really need to learn to stop saying I can do something when it takes personal time from me. Work time is work time. Personal time is supposed to be personal time. Maybe one day I’ll learn.