I am very frustrated with myself today. Well, perhaps very is a little harsh. I don’t think I’ve waken up enough or had coffee enough to really feel anything too powerfully at this particular moment, but I am thinking about my day off yesterday and the things I managed to get done.
Or, more appropriately, the things I did not get done. Anyone who reads this blog will not be surprised to hear me say that I work a lot, and yesterday was first day off in a little bit over a week. I remember thinking, “Great! A whole day off, where I don’t have to plan around a work schedule! I’ll get so much done!”
But, of course, I didn’t do much of anything. I’m still on the right track with my novel for the month. It’s a mess right now, but a good mess, as I try to feel around for what’s actually happening, throwing a lot of random stuff together and planning to smooth them together better later. I managed about a hundred pages of reading a book and should be finished with another one by the end of tomorrow, which is another day off. But I was intending to get a job application finished; I was intending to get more of a short story written. I was hoping to at least touch on Serpent in a Cage to consider it for the next Round of 80 Words. But mostly, I just watched some television shows, played some video games, and cleaned the kitchen a little….
Part of me is saying: it’s okay! You were working a lot last week, and so you deserve a day to just do nothing! Besides, you have Friday off, too! It’s not like you’re going headfirst into another long week without much of a break. Make up for it Friday, and you’ll be good.
I know myself better than that, though. Friday will probably be a lot like Wednesday. But that’s okay. Maybe if I don’t give myself a hard time about it, then I might feel a little more willing to surprise myself with something a little more productive.