Time change wrecks havoc on my being. Every year.
Every year I promise I am going to do better at the results of its impact to avoid the results. I thought I was on track for that this year. Two weeks ahead of time I tried to alter my sleep schedule. Stayed in bed a bit longer and stayed up an hour later. This should fix it, right?
Wrong. Or if it should have, it didn't.
Course, I had a conference the day after the time change. Up early. Up late. Go go go all day, talking to people, engaging conversations, meeting new people, trying to be your absolute best the entire day, thinking hard, drinking Starbucks Coffee that was at the event after being sworn off coffee for some time now (except for the occasional treat), and no rest for the go-getter.
I knew it was going to be a packed week. I was determined to make the best of it.
Take someone to the airport from the conference, rush home to catch up on 3 days of emails, return voicemails, unload the suitcase, repack, get a massage, meet a girlfriend for dinner after an impromptu invite, and dig in for a quick sleep. Back on the road early the next morning to be out of town to a clients office for full two days of work.
Worked late. As usual.
But I had thought I was doing good, I had made some "me time". I registered for a wreath making class to attend on my way home from the clients office over a month ago. However, I left the clients office 30 minutes late (surprise), got stuck in traffic (surprise again), and arrived 60 minutes late. Doing my best to catch up, I was pressed for time as I thought this fun was supposed to be over at 9pm, and that meant I had 90 minutes to complete my project. I was hustling. I did really well at moving along on my project, but alas, they didn't care if we ran over, encouraged us to shop the store during their 25% off sale and I didn't leave there till nearly 11pm...I crawled in bed at midnight.
So now we are at 5 days of a wacky schedule.
Planning to make the time change a smooth process was a fabulous idea with no practical results. And come Friday? I was dead. Exhausted. Didn't care to eat. Didn't want to work. Fever blisters all over my right lower lip and directly above on my right upper lip...you would have thought maybe I could squeeze my lips together and burst them it was that bad. I have never had a cluster of so many in one spot on both lips, directly above each other. I didn't feel stressed, which usually is what generates these for me...what was this from? How could I have so many of these so quickly?
How about trying to be superwoman and keep a schedule with very little sleep and a complete schedule thrown to the wind? How about having adrenals that just can't keep up? How about no stamina to stay up late anymore? How about hormones that are still trying to get on a routine?
Ugh. Why do I do this to myself? This I must figure out.