I turn sour around 2pm on Sundays. Bickering and moping around the house, I make note of the week’s leftovers. Stale chores, rotting goals, and long forgotten plans. I berate myself for not using my time more wisely and then spend the last remaining hours of sunlight in the fetal position scrolling through Instagram and Pinterest. We resort to our most primal defenses when confronted with horrors of reality. Namely, the work week. Blissfully lost in social media influencer’s worlds of Saturdays and Sundays, I eat halfhearted supper, squabble a little bit more, and then put myself to bed. This affliction is known as the Sunday blues.
The women in my life have always given me advice. Check your blind spot, don’t put out on the first date, and never put tomatoes in the refrigerator. We are practical people. Used to taking care of others and protecting ourselves from danger. Not to mention making sure our produce stays fresh as long as possible. As we get older we put these lessons to use and dole out advice to others. We become mothers constantly bathing children while neglecting our own bodies. Employees that tell others to take time for themselves while measuring ourselves against a higher standard. Mindless internet drones that spend time lusting over others’ possessions, bodies, and lifestyles while forgetting to relish our own gifts. Not today ladies.
As a mental health practitioner I spend a lot of time preaching. Take your medicine, go to groups, and don’t miss your appointments. Funny thing is I’m pretty bad at all three. Masters degree or not we’re all pretty good and giving advice and pretty bad at taking our own. The long and short of it? Self care is hard.
A friend of mine recently brought to my attention the concept of Boring Self Care. Essentially the idea is giving ourselves a well deserved pat on the back for completing simple yet often neglected tasks. It might sound stupid but on a daily basis I watch people neglect their hygiene, disconnect from society, and be unable verbalize what they need to feel better. You might not have a chronic illness but I can assure you, you probably have shitty self care from time to time.
My grandmother knew how to save a dollar. She’d turn old clothes into rugs and split every open face sandwich in half. She worked hard for her money and made her money work hard for her. She of course instilled this philosophy into my mother and my mother instilled it into me. Penny pinching is most definitely on the nurture side of things. Of course, I’m not handy enough to make my own rugs, pillows, table clothes, sweaters, underwear, nighties, slippers, and booze, but boy, do I know to use a coupon code. What I’ve lost in Estonian fiber arts skills I’ve surely gained in ability to turn on a computer. That is to say I take saving money seriously, just like my responsibility to be an informed citizen of Bachelor Nation. However, I’m aware that I’m not exactly in the majority with this position. If budgeting scares people then budgeting software is being stranded underwater with limited oxygen and ginormous CGI sharks. Don’t fret, Mandy, I’m here to help you navigate those waters (lolz). Yes, it’s possible to live in New York and not go broke, actually enjoy saving money, and keep yourself honest about what you’re spending and WHY.
I’ve hit a wall. No this isn’t another “boo hoo renovation is hard” post this is more of a “what am I doing with this blog” type post. I’ve written for 16 weeks about quartz countertops, hardwood floors, spending lots of money, and making way more decisions than I’m comfortable with. It’s been overwhelming and all consuming- but, that’s not my whole life. Even when I’ve said that it was. The home renovation process has slowed down. The house is livable and I’m fine with that being an achievement in itself right now. Yes, we still don’t have door knobs and the bathroom door is still a trap- but that’s life. The to do list will never go away. It will never be “finished” and recently, if I’m being honest, I’ve found myself feeling pressured for weekly “content” and rushing this process for the sake of the dumb blog ™.