Thursday Throwback: The five stages of exhaustion

Today’s post is a re-run from my old blog.  Why?  Because I’m too darn tired to write something new.  And so I present:

THE FIVE STAGES OF EXHAUSTION

Stage 1: You wake up feeling tired.

You stumble around the house all day, misplace your keys, and go to bed early.

Stage 2: You wake up feeling lousy.

You stumble around, maybe drop a few things, and find it hard to finish sentences. You go to bed early.

Stage 3: You wake up feeling dead.

You fall asleep on the baby while you’re changing her. You give the kids cereal for supper because you’re too weak to lift a pound of chop meat. You go to bed late, because if you don’t get caught up on the housework, someone is going to arrest you.

Stage 4: You don’t wake up.

You walk around the house, make meals, drive to the library, and answer the phone, but you’re not really awake. But you dream that you are, and in your dream, you’re very tired. You go to bed, probably. Whatever.

Stage 5: You wake up feeling great!

Some of your noses are a little numb, and you keep forgetting where your feet feet, but you seem to have outlasted the need for sleep! You’re a champion! There are only a few problems:

~You make a tuna noodle casserole (ingredients: tuna, noodles) and forget to put in the noodles. Your only clue that something is awry is a nagging feeling that supper looks awfully low today.

~You ask your husband to pick up some cereal bowls, and carefully explain that they are to be not ceramic, and not glass, but a particular sort of smooth, non-porous material that is rigid like unto glass, and yet not so breakable. And he says, “yeah, I’m familiar with plastic.”

~You wander around the house searching for AA batteries. You spot a book of matches, and think, “That’ll work!”

~Your husband comments that your new yard has enough space to keep a horse, and you reply, “What we really need is one of those horses with horns. That gives milk.”

~You ask your mother, “Can the kids sleep at your house, or are the rooms too full of cheese?”

Everything in this post is true.

Being tired may not kill me, but no one else is safe.

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  • Sarah B

    I’m tempted not to laugh, because it’s TOO true; but I guess it’s still pretty funny. Stage 4 might include, speaking in a metaphorical language, the archetypes for which are known only to yourself. And getting frustrated when no one understand what you’re trying to convey when you say, “My teeth will be visiting a giant soon, and they must look festive.”

    true story.

  • http://suburbancorrespondent.blogspot.com suburbancorrespondent

    I remember all those things from Stage 5. I swear, there were times I would wish I were a prisoner of war so that I would get more sleep.

  • http://www.cooperfamilyfarm.com/fbp Jennie C.

    Ha! Too, too true. I had all those Stage 5 experiences not long ago. My husband kept looking at me like I should be committed. :-)

  • http://hermitmama.blogspot.com/ Hermit Mama

    As a new mom, I can relate to all these stages. Great post!

  • Bob

    Sorry you’re tired, but I had never read this before, so really, I’m not all that sorry. Sorry.

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  • justine

    I once tried to get someone to hand me the blue box of baby wipes, and couldn’t remember either the word for “wipes” or the word for “blue”.

    I’m sooo looking forward to the birth of this baby, but absolutely dreading the inevitable death of my vocabulary.

  • MysteryNurse

    This was so funny that I tried to read it to my husband, but I became hysterical with laughter and he couldn’t understand, so he had to read it himself. Still hilarious.

    We were up until 3am last night and then the baby fussed until morning.

    Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a little boy who’s trying to bribe me not to make him do his math.

  • http://lydiapurpuraria.wordpress.com lydiacubbedge

    Wow. This is me. Especially asking if the rooms are too full of cheese.

    I always think that when you actually do start going to bed earlier, you feel more tired than when you’re sleep deprived because you loose the fine edge of hysteria.

  • http://www.martinfamilymoments.blogspot.com Colleen

    So your mother lives in Wisconsin?

    :)

  • Robin

    I lived in Stage 5 for a year, once. Not good. So not good.

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  • http://ayoungmomsmusings.blogspot.com/ Young Mom

    Oh goodness, I have been in stage 5 more than once, where alot of my statements are combinations of incomplete thoughts supplemented with half-awake dreams and even I can’t understand them. When I am speaking that language while struggling to stay “awake” to talk to my hubby, he sends me to bed!

  • Kate

    Great. Now I feel like a real slacker. I’ve never been this tired. I must not be doing enough…..

  • barboo77

    I am so in Stage 5 right now!! Desperately need sleep…

  • Rosemary

    for real? the plastic?? That is awesome.

  • http://3acres.blogspot.com Renee

    Yeah, then add in home schooling and then what do you get?

  • http://aerinlissar.blogspot.com Kyra

    My husband and I have started referring to this post about once an hour. I think I’ve spent the last three years between Stage Two and Stage Five. Yesterday my husband was unable to say ‘spoon’, in spite of trying four times. He said ‘plate’ instead. Not really a synonym.

  • Marie

    Yep..I just say..blurrr…blurr..and go numb..and sit..actually have gone for three days without meals..just nuts and apricots..cause i did not have the time to think about going to the shop..

    the police stopped me last month for driving too slowly..5 km below the limit and asked me if there was a problem..no i said..have you been drinking today..well apart from that sip of wine at mass no..circled my car checked its roadworthiness..all fine..so i piped up and said perhaps its because im a queenslander..or a woman..i can’t comment on that he said..did not write me a ticket..gave me a breatherlizer though..all clear..

    just exhausted..:)

  • marina

    This is great. I am in stage 4.


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