I was frantically trying to get myself together to go do stuff with the Mountain Men. When I wasn't nearly ready to even day trip by Friday, I said "Okay, Sunday..." But I'd been fighting a migraine and hot flashes... As I was looking for my small canvas fly in the garage on Saturday, I said "You know, this isn't fun. If it isn't fun, why am I doing it?" I knew the answer from bad previous experience. When I get really, really stressed, I try to resolve it by doing *more stuff* to counteract it, and it goes into a vicious cycle. At that point, I decided I was taking a time out. I played with Circe, I read some books and magazines (another 150 pages on Liza Dalby's novel "Murasaki" and 100 of the 1920's social satire "Ladies in Hades," plus finally finishing the 1850's serial I'd been reading for a couple months (final 2 installments). And Smithsonian, Discover, and Saveur. And three cookbooks. And a bunch of comics. And saw a pirate movie. ;-) I LOVED Pirates of the Carribean - needed some silly escapist fare! There is something decadent about not doing much other than reading, too. About the only useful thing I did was sort and fold the laundry that had been accumulating, clean but unsorted, for 3 weeks.
I enjoy the Mountain Men a lot, but when I'm there, I have standards for myself that I expect myself to uphold. I have to be Super Living-Historian. I go to these events and work very hard for my fun. It felt very strange, giving myself permission to vege out. (Yeah, besides laundry, I also admit to errands, and getting a lot of the cast iron and stuff finally stowed into the garage. And some minor yard work. But hey, I'm compulsive. ;-) ) I should try kicking back and reading more---it's good for me.