I don't really know if my mood got any better the rest of Monday because my notes from my journal that night are barely existent. Like, probably twenty hastily jotted words max.
I wrote "tired and grumpy" three times, so I must have really really not been happy.
Connor and I walked to our dinner place. Well, we walked towards where we'd scoped it out as being the night before, but neither of us had ever "done" a meal plan before so we didn't really know what to look for. Or, I suppose, if we'd actually been scammed or not. I was pretty sure not, because the chef had been placed with a very large theme camp, but I wasn't sure how we'd find the place.
We wandered around (me feeling quite nervous, as I often do when I take the lead on things but really, genuinely have no idea what I'm doing) and found a long line of people and figured we were in the right place.
Which, to be honest, surprised me. I don't know why, but I guess I'd just expected it would be a few of us grabbing food from a guy who was cooking. I didn't expect it to be the food and meal source for an entire, massive camp! We checked in and got our wrist bands (the easiest way for them to identify those of us who were part of the plan/camp) and stood in yet another line. I'm sure I was somewhat less grumpy in this line as I knew it meant food was coming.
I don't remember what we had, and I didn't make note of it, but I'm sure it was delicious. Our meals were stunning, and well worth the cost. I figured we would have spent just as much buying our own food but this way we didn't have to deal with refrigeration or cooking. I'm not sure how "radically self-reliant" it is, to be honest, but I put my health first this year by giving this a try, and I'm so glad I did.
By the time we'd walked home, I was utterly done.
My notes tell me that I felt overwhelmed. I remember feeling this way. I didn't want to be around Connor anymore. I found everything just too much. It was SO noisy. All of our neighbouring camps had their music blasting. None of it was music I enjoy (gangster rap, and yelly shouty misogynistic lyrics so not being my thing) and I wanted a break.
There is no break at Burning Man. (Although I suppose I could have walked waaay far out into walk out camping... but that was on the other side of the still damp playa.. and I wanted my own space.)
It was all too much.
I remember my co-worker last year telling me that you get overwhelmed at Burning Man and that I should bring a book or some other quiet activity for those times. Well, I took a book last year but never read it, so the only thing I had with me was a trashy magazine C-Dawg had given me the week before I left.
I went to bed early. Like, nine o'clock early. I shoved my headphones in and lay on my bed listening to The Dark Side of The Moon so I could at least be focussing on something aurally that I liked.
It might have been different had I had a friend with me I could have gone and done something with, but on the other hand I had been awake since six or so and was incredibly tired and grumpy.... so maybe I would have been going to bed even with a bestie there.
Listening to "my" music calmed me down a bit and my eyes sort of glanced at the words of the magazine even if I wasn't actually reading it. I popped my earplugs in tight (still hearing the extraordinarily loud and irritating "music") and threw on my eye mask and did the best I could to sleep.
At some point, someone must have left their camp because I woke when some headlights lit up my tent and it was a lot quieter.
But in general, Monday afternoon had been me feeling grumpy and unhappy.
The morning had been wonderfully fun and exciting with the rain and lightning, but my mood went down from there.
Bed and sleep seemed like the best thing, because as I've ironically already shown this week, sometimes sleeping it off works really well for me and my mood.