The Fantasy of the Excused Absence

In which I have internalized the school attendance policy, and that is not helpful.

In conversation recently, I was talking to some of the folks taking my Snail’s Guide to Wandering workshop, and someone said that when they felt like they weren’t being as productive as they *should* be, they would get ‘hung up on the why.’

I hadn’t even questioned my own background chatter that says “Are you tired because Sunday was such a long day? Do you now need two days to recover from a long slog? Are you getting old? Or is it because you are taking on more tasks because your husband is away? Or because you are anxious about the blizzard that is hitting tomorrow? Can anxiety make you tired? What is making me so sluggish today?” And I really expect to know which it is - I should be able to isolate one reason. And, the logic continues, if I can identify the reason, then I can fix the sluggishness. As if being tired can be fixed with a lightbulb moment - I can be refreshed by simply understanding the reason why I am tired.

Completely unrelated: I found someone’s acorn stash in the cabin, between books that I fantasize about reading.

I never did argue my way into one concrete reason why I was tired, because all of those things were making me tired.

I could suddenly see how urgently I wanted that one concrete reason, and I had a flashback to elementary school, worrying about excused absences, and feeling the urgency of getting a note to make sure it wasn’t counted as unexcused. Feeling the bureaucratic shame of an unexcused absence and the forgiveness of that doctor’s note.

And it seems that am still looking to divide my own struggles into “excused” and “unexcused.” I want the metaphorical doctor’s note, because I imagine that it would prove that I am justified in my desire to rest. So, the logic goes, if I can isolate the reason why I am tired, then I can determine if my lower than expected productivity is explainable and excused. 

There is that urgency to know if this reason for being tired is acceptable, it seems as if it will fix things, or answer things, or be my shield against the inner critic. I will be able to reply to the inner critic with confidence that I was allowed that rest, that was an excused absence. 

And yet, as recently as last month I had real doctor’s note, one that specifically told me I needed to rest, and yet… somehow that rest didn’t feel any more excused. I rested, a while. I usually stopped moving and working when my arm started to ache, but only then. And only until the ache eased up. Unless I was driving. Or making dinner.

I have this fantasy of the “excused” productivity slow down. That it will magically rid me of productivity guilt and allow me to take it easy. Even though the evidence at hand proves that wrong.

Because who is excusing me? Am I? My husband and children? My various employers or students? I can show up or turn in work late, but there are problems and hard deadlines that can only be forgiven to a point.

It’s just one more defense against the never ending press that says I need to Do More. I want to have a reason why I don’t have to do More today. Which doesn’t actually help. Because I still believe that I owe the world more of myself, I just wanted a way to deflect the guilt. Looking for someone else to approve my rest is the fantasy — permission to rest. Honestly, even permission to work at my own pace would be a relief.

In the hay shed, chickens are stashing their eggs in this nest of baling twine and hay. Critters will come in at night and eat them, so I only get my eggs if I remember to collect them before dark.

But the only thing that will protect me from that is to stop believing it. Which is so difficult in a society that says we are only as good as our last accomplishment. So I don’t have a cure. I just keep uncovering these fantasies, and slowly pulling them away. Because they keep me from confronting the harder truth - that I don’t meet this expectation, and ultimately I don’t want to. I want to work at my own pace, and enjoy my leisure time and rest. But that’s a long term goal, not a task I can check off today.

Now if I could only give myself a pass so I could get up and use the bathroom before I go back to edit this… oh, hey, wait a second…