managing, sort of

managing sort of

Query Week 5
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It is the 7000th month of Covid, and the new variants are creating a third fricken’ wave of this horribleness. It snowed yesterday (in April…), my uterus is being wrung out like wet laundry, and I have a headache. I am not having an awesome time right now.

But while I am struggling in this moment, I am grounded enough to be okay. I know that “this too shall pass,” as the good book says. I know this because shitty times have passed every other time I’ve gone through them. I’m also far enough out of the liminal space after my life went bust that I can approach a tough situation with a sense of humour, rather than with ball-shrivelling terror.

Things are tough. Life is tough. But things and life are not so tough that I feel like I can’t handle it. Handling things may look to others like I’m doing well– I am smart and capable. I bake cookies and keep my apartment clean-ish. My kids and finches have enough food and water, and a safe, quiet place to sleep. But I still eat my feelings after putting the kids to bed. I play a brightly-colored game on my phone to unwind at night, rather than meditating silently as I should. I have a split-screen on my computer while I write, with a TV show going to distract my mind from my impending existential dread.

This is the heart of managing, sort of. I suspect a lot of us are here. We know what managing well looks like, and we know we’re not it. But we deliver our deliverables on time (or close enough), and that looks to others like we are managing well. We also know we could be doing so much worse, and we don’t want to take up other people’s emotional bandwidth with our sort of-ness.

It’s days when we feel fine, and then days when we feel terrible, and then the majority of days when we feel just kind of okay. I think managing, sort of is the necessary step on the journey between not managing at all and managing well.

I try not to put pressure on myself to have an awesome day when all I’ve got is a sort of day. I still hold out hope for an awesome day at some point, but it’s okay if it’s not in the cards for a while. I can remind myself that my ability to see a hopeful day is in itself a good sign, and just try not to worry about it too much.

So to all my managing, sort of compatriots: I see you. You are doing fine. We are all doing fine. It’ll all be fine. Sort of.

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Published by amy

Coffee-drinker, money-saver. Laughs at "that's what she said."

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