Somewhere around September something went drastically wrong somewhere in my plans, and instead of what I ordered (a year of joy and ease), I got exhaustion, headaches, feeling run down and constantly on the brink of getting a cold.. for three months.

I said to life “Um, excuse me, this shit is not what I ordered.”

And Mr Life, like Australia Post, shrugged and said

“Maaate, do I look like I give a fuck?”

Well hello. Now look, I realise that I usually put out these blog posts weekly ish, and then I just went and ghosted you (and me), and now you might be a bit like “who is this fool, waltzing onto my screen after 6 weeks of silence?”

But I’ve missed you and your lovely comments and insights, and I’ve been thinking about you, so I’m popping in before Christmas (justttt in the nick of time) to say hello, and also goodbye.

I took a two week holiday around my birthday to try and recover my energy and then just… ran out of oomph.

I’ve been completely oomphless since then.

Like an oompha loompa, but significantly less orange. I haven’t been able to bring myself to do anything more than the bare minimum. Hence I dropped off the face of the blog-earth, as you may (or more likely may not) have noticed.

The other day I found myself looking at a splash of food on the floor and thinking “It’s annoying that that’s there, because I can’t be bothered wiping it up, and it’s going to annoy me for days.” Anyone who knows me and how much of a frenetic “doer” I usually am, will know that this is very far from my usual mode of being.

Bloody Good Bloke laughs that over the past few months I’ve moved down to the “normal” range of motivation and productivity.

I’ve been saving up all my remaining energy for my clients, for the many corporate workshops I already had booked, and for unavoidable tasks in my business. My fabulous team have filled in many of the gaps, and everything else on my to-do list — like new projects, and that workshop I’ve been harping on about running for you guys (How to be less of a dick to yourself) got left til tomorrow-tomorrow-tomorrow. (Which has now become: tomor-next year).

I didn’t expect the fatigue and run-downness would last this long.

Eventually I went to my GP, who seemed entirely unsurprised and brushed it off in that nonchalantly annoying-as-hell way that GPs do — “Oh yeah, did you get the Pfizer vaccine? Yeah I’ve had loads of patients who have had a lot of fatigue for months after Pfizer, it’ll wear off eventually, probably.”

Cool.

Usually I love working and feel passionate and inspired. Until this week, I’ve felt as though sitting at my computer and focusing is the equivalent of climbing up a steep cliff with jandals on.

The GP had no other answers for me, so I’ve just had to wait it out.

But Neville, (my mind), wellll, he’s not such a huge fan of waiting.

He’s more of a “Bugger waiting, let’s work out the answer and get on with life” kinda guy.

So the last three months have been an internal battle between my body and brain wanting to rest and sleep, while Neville hits me with the guilt stick for not doing enough.

Much to Neville’s chagrin, sometimes there is no obvious answer. Sometimes you just have to keep going as best you can, do your best to look after yourself, and wait for things to shift.

So I’ve been waiting. And finally (after months of internal wrestling) — and now that I’m starting to feel normal-ish again — Neville has agreed to give me a break — without the guilt.

It’s been a bloody big year, two years… for all of us.

Seriously, what the hell.

I hope you’re able to give yourself a big ol pat on the back for making it through to the end of 2021, and whether it’s been hard or easy, or somewhere in between — give yourself a break.

Switch off as much as possible, stare at a bird, inhale a Christmas tree, lie on some grass (wrapped in 15 jumpers and a scarf if you’re in the northern hemisphere).

That’s what I’ll be doing, minus the jumpers, plus a sour yuzu cocktail with the miraculous white frothy bit on top.

I hope you have a beautiful break over the holidays.

I look forward to seeing you again in the new year, when I’ll be back at some indiscernible time, hopefully refreshed, with more sweary personal stories that I hope make you feel a touch less mad and a dash more human.

You’re doing your best, and now it’s time to do your best resting.

Amen and arrivederci.