136 // Something Will Get Done

Today is not as much of a “do-nothing” kind of day as yesterday was. I always forget that if you try to rest all of Saturday, you must do double duty on Sunday and this Sunday’s to-do list is quite long. Add that to the late start and the gloomy skies and my mood is bordering on irritable and I’m close to giving up and letting the universe implode or whatever happens when you decide to stop being a responsible adult for more a day or so.

Today’s coping tool is the timer. I’m alternating between writing time, and time to work through the to-do list. I set 30 minutes and type away, then I get up and complete a task. I have a drink and a snack maybe then set another 30 minutes and start typing. I’m not perfect. Sometimes typing time turns into Twitter time and sometimes task time turns into TV time, but I’m trying. In the end, something will get done today.

I admit this isn’t the most effective way to structure my Sunday. My wife is the type to separate her task time and free time entirely, as I think most people are. She spends her morning on errands and chores and then has the whole of the afternoon to herself. It sounds nice, and I have tried to break my days up this way but while doing one I’m always thinking of the other. When I’m washing dishes I want to write, when I’m writing I want to wash dishes and in the end neither is done well or efficiently.

It’s better for me to know that I only have to focus on one thing for a little while. I can enjoy the peace and satisfaction of one task without the guilt because I know I will get to the other in time.

I still wish I had another day to myself, at least. I really wish I had whole week to call my own! More time to do more of what I want in and more to spend with the people I love most. I will always believe the 40 hour work week was one of the cruelest inventions of humanity. And with that thought comes the usual Sunday afternoon blues…


It’s hard to believe that in just a few days I will be back at work again. I haven’t seen that place or any of my coworkers or friends in over eight weeks and the idea of seeing them again Monday morning is making me feel increasingly excited, anxious, and afraid. I’m trying not to think about it though. When I do the guilt over not doing or accomplishing more than I have these past few months.

I keep trying to remember that no one expected anything from me but me, that it’s okay I took this time to rest and to sometimes do nothing, and, that considering how quickly and dramatically the world changed there was no way to properly plan or emotionally prepare for a long time away from work and in isolation. I did what I could, and that is good enough.

So tonight, instead of trying to get back to my old sleep habit and routine, I’m staying up late and having a few drinks with my wife. I’ve decided to be even less productive than I have been and to focus on myself for the next few days. No writing. No reading. No big projects. Just doing whatever I feel like for theses next few days. I’ll get back to work when I have to, and not a second before.