Some Weeks Are Just Maintenance

I sat down to write Coffee Talk this week and realized I had exactly one thing on my mind.

My house.

More specifically ... contractors, paint, drywall, schedules, insurance, decisions, questions, things that were supposed to happen but didn’t, things that are finally happening, and approximately 47 other details I never wanted to know this much about.

At this point, I have opinions about drywall.

This was not on my midlife bingo card.

I haven't really talked about this here, but our house has been dealing with the aftermath of water damage for what feels like forever.

Something like 17 loooonnnng months, to be exact. Don't ask.

Friends and family have heard plenty about it. Probably more than they ever wanted to.

And just when it felt like things were finally starting to fall into place, we hit another not-so-fun-snag with the insurance company.

So yes ... it's been a lot.

Now that reconstruction is finally underway, you’d think I’d feel nothing but relief.

And I do.

I really, really do.

There is something pretty wonderful about finally seeing people put the house back together instead of just talking about it.

But apparently reconstruction has also become my entire personality.

I wake up thinking about it.

I work while listening to footsteps, saws and conversations coming from another room.

I answer questions. Make decisions. Get texts.

Scott and I have conversations about paint, trim and whatever is happening in the basement as though these are fascinating topics we voluntarily chose for ourselves.

And just when I think I’ve reached my daily limit for thinking about the house ...

Something else pops up.

Of course it does.

Meanwhile, regular life has the nerve to keep going.

Work still needs to get done.

Laundry still exists, which feels particularly rude considering how this whole thing started.

There are meals to figure out. Emails to answer. Errands to run.

And people I love and actually want to talk to about something other than my house.

Somewhere in the middle of all of that, I’m still trying to do the basic things I know make me feel better.

Drink the water.

Get the protein in.

Move a little.

Sleep enough.

Take care of myself.

Nothing particularly glamorous.

No shiny new wellness routine over here.

Mostly I’m walking around with a water bottle, mentally calculating how much protein I’ve eaten while somebody is sanding something in the background.

Midlife wellness at its finest.

But it got me thinking ...

Some weeks aren’t about making progress in some big, exciting, noticeable way.

Some weeks are just maintenance.

And maybe we don’t give ourselves enough credit for those weeks.

We’re constantly being told to improve something.

Build better habits.

Hit a new goal.

Start the project.

Finish the project.

Be more productive.

Make the most of summer.

But sometimes your bandwidth is already spoken for.

Sometimes one part of your life gets so loud that the rest of your energy goes toward keeping everything else from sliding off the table.

That’s kind of where I am right now.

I’m not starting a new routine.

I’m not having some huge personal breakthrough.

I’m trying to keep my water bottle filled and get enough protein before I suddenly realize it’s 4:00.

I’m trying to remember what day it is.

I’m trying to work while people rebuild pieces of my house around me.

And I’m trying to make the decisions that actually need to be made without turning every single one into a federal case.

That last one may still be a work in progress.

Mostly, I’m trying to hold it all together without convincing myself I actually have to hold every single thing together.

And maybe that counts for more than we think.

Because maintenance is still care.

Eating the decent lunch instead of skipping it is care.

Refilling the water bottle again is care.

Going to bed when you’re tired is care.

Saying, “That can wait until tomorrow” is care too.

The boring little things that keep you feeling somewhat like yourself ... they count.

It's easy to look at weeks like this and think we’re not accomplishing very much.

But maybe keeping things steady while life is unusually loud is an accomplishment all by itself.

So that’s where I am this week.

No big lesson.

No dramatic reinvention.

Just a house under construction, a water bottle that apparently has a bottom no matter how many times I refill it, protein I’m still trying to get in every day ... and me, doing my best to keep the rest of life moving.

And honestly?

That feels like enough.

Some weeks are for growth.

Some are for adventure.

Some are for making memories.

And some weeks are just maintenance.

If that’s the kind of week you’re having too ... pull up a chair.

You don’t have to accomplish anything while you’re here.

The coffee will be waiting.

See you next Sunday.

Kari xo

I'll save you a seat 💙

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Coffee Talk is one corner of The Midlife Edit.

If you'd like more conversations like this, along with travel inspiration, wellness ideas, and my favorite finds, I'd love to have you join me there.

karifitz.co