Reacclimating to America: Remembering what busy means
The longer I’m home, the more I’m realizing what a vacation Singapore really was. I forgot just how busy our lives were before we lived in Asia. I remembered not being home very much, but I didn’t remember just how exhausting and borderline stressful it all is.
In the month and a half that I’ve been home, my calendar has been full of the following:
3 graduation parties
2 baby showers
4 birthday parties
1 bachelorette party
1 family holiday (Mother’s Day)
4 babysitting sessions
and 12 social lunches/dinners
I almost need a weekend from the weekend. For the first time ever, I don’t dread Monday morning because it means that I actually get to sit still at a desk for a minute. (Did I mention that I have a full-time awesome job now?)
Don’t get me wrong though. It’s not that I’m complaining about having to see people constantly. I love that I’m around all of the friends and family that we’ve missed so much for the past two years. I love love LOVE that part.
I just had no idea how difficult it would be to go from two or three social events a month for two whole years to the fuggin’ crazy train that is my life in Kansas right now. For so long, it was only the two of us and we determined our own schedule. No one else dictated events to us that we were required to attend.
Well, the solo couple party is over.
And I’m just exhausted. Mentally and physically. The weekends fill up before I can even think of making my own plans.
I’ve fantasized about finding an abandoned cave to hide in for an entire weekend so nobody can find me to ask me to go to something, babysit their kids, or plan a lunch date.
I know that sounds horrible. I really don’t mean it to either. My brain and body just aren’t used to this. I’m used to wearing pajamas and sitting on the couch with my laptop on my lap while Aaron watches movies for 48 hours straight. That was our weekend routine. Was it more fun? Well, no. But my brain was programmed to that state of weekend living.
And now, we just missed so much for so long, I feel too guilty to say no to all of these activities. I really do want to do things with people and spend time with everyone I’ve missed like crazy.
I just wish I had a second to catch my breath.
The worst part about all of this: Aaron’s not even home yet. It’s about to get A LOT worse.
Do they make a pill for repatriates? I feel as though there should definitely be a pill for this.