It's the weekend

I'm in a bit of a funk and can't seem to shake it. I keep trying to figure out why but I don't know.

I don't think it's grief. I loved my dad but we weren't close enough that I miss him on a daily basis.

Maybe it's because I feel the weight of organising Dad's estate and also of emptying mum and dad's house (the family home) ready for sale.

Maybe it's the grief of farewelling the property I grew up in, a second home for my own children.

Maybe it's because I struggle to feel competent at my job or because there are no windows in the office or because I can't make any meaningful relationship with any colleagues because everyone is too isolated by busyness. Or because the woman I job share with can cut me down at the precise moment I'm starting to feel like I'm doing ok.

I don't know, none of it is easy but neither is any of it overwhelmingly awful.

I breathe badly, unevenly holding my breath and gasping. Is it a poor habit that makes me feel stressed or do I breathe badly because I feel stressed?

This weekend I have booked in to do a Christmas craft workshop, hopefully that will be a chance for a cuppa and a chat. I'll go to a movie on Saturday evening and on Sunday I'll make the drive to see Liam and his wife and my grandson. 

The darkness of the cinema should calm me down and the socialising should refresh my spirit. That's the plan, any way.