Here's what I think.
I think there's no way to talk myself out of being tired, and that perhaps, through the small choices I'm making, I'm talking myself into it.
I think the only way to strategize for energy, for grace, is just to get up and do the thing, and quit thinking so much about how to do it, when to do it, am I ready to do it (unless we're talking gardens; then I've got to wait, at least, until after the snows forecast for Saturday--you know, at least).
I think I waste a lot of time (and, yes, energy) staring out the window wishing things were otherwise--past, future, present, whatever. It's chronic and it's illness.
I think sometimes these notes to the universe/my tribe/myself make all the difference, and (most of the time) make none at all.
I think I write myself a better life than I'm living.
I think I need to find a new way.
Then I think, there is no new way. There is only the way.
Then I think: Crap. Maybe I found my way out, accidentally, and now can't seem to find my way back in.
Do you think, perhaps, knocking would help?