Mayday weekend was one of, if not the best I’ve had in about two and a half years. I also was one of, if not the most active one since then. This means that
I went out to dance salsa on Friday, after declining to go to a class beforehand so that I could have a nap, knowing I’d not be home before 2AM (and indeed I did not);
on Saturday, I visited the Royal Greenhouses. The Royal Greenhouses are open only a few weeks a year, and I was under the distinct impression that one has to reserve an appointment to get in, which I did not manage, probably because this is not really the case. I reserved a place in a guided tour instead, and only realised somewhere around Friday 11PM that 1) the tour starts at 1PM, not at 2:30, and 2) it’s a 4-hour cycling tour around Bruxelles. Of course, I regularly cycle comparable distances, but getting up that much earlier wasn’t welcome; also, cycling thgouth the town and then walking around, at a snail’s pace, in a huge and awfully crowded greenhouse complex for an hour is tiring. On top of that, we started out late, so at 5:30, when I left the group, the tour wasn’t yet finished.
I went home, had a bit of rest, took a shower and changed, pulled myself together, had a coffee – then went out to a folk ball. This is something I’ve been into since September, and includes (mostly) Western-European traditional dances. I do not take classes, but I go to the live music evenings whenever I can: the dances are easy to learn by doing, the music tends to be great, and I enjoy the company a lot.
If all that wasn’t enough,
on Sunday, though I had set the alarm as late as I could, counting all I wanted to do, I was fully awake by 8:15; so not only I wen to the market and took the compost to the garden (have I ever mentioned I participate in a community garden?), I also took my seedlings (green peas and courgettes, if you want to know), and by the time the others arrived – we’d agreed to turn the compost –, I almost finished planting and watering them.
I went to a contact impovisation jam in the afternoon, something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. I’d been going to jams in budapest, but in Bruxelles I somehow didn’t manage (maybe because I was sick half the time?). Anyway, it was so good I resolved to go every Sunday if I can. Of course, typically, I may have to take an exception this week already. I finished off Sunday night at an Oriental dance show. No, I did not perform.
Monday was an easy day: I “only” had some dance practice and visited my friends in Leuven.
Why “almost”, you may ask.
Honestly, I’d not intended to pack my weekend so much, but when I realised I had, I decided not to cancel anything unless I really didn’t feel like going. But every day I paid close attention to get my hours of sleep, to home during the day and have and hour or so to rest, even to take a nap. I made sure that I wouldn’t have any specific programme for the next weekend, so that I can rest.
I was prepared to be tired, not-so-concentrated or less productive at work. Still I hoped, in vain, that that would be it. It’s Friday and I’m writing this from home, on sick leave (lucky I can do that, by the way). When I talk about chronic illness, this is what I’m so upset about. I mean, there are way more serious issues than mine, and if you don’t see me take my meds you probably won’t ever notice, but really, can I not have an active and fun weekend without getting sick?!?
Edited to add: of course, this illness was little more than some annoyance, but annoying it was indeed. Three weeks later, I’m still not back at that energy level — almost, yes, but not quite.