Here we are again: Sunday night. The last few moments of the weekend, ticking away, the sands of our free time slipping through the hourglass as we contemplate how we wasted these precious moments of life that aren't committed to anyone else, ours to do with as we wish.
In theory. Of course that's never the reality. Mentally, my weekends feel spent before I even get to them. I have this tendency to vastly overestimate how much time I will need to do things and so my weekends feel super packed because I have a list of things to do, like clean the house, do laundry, wash the dishes, and buy milk. None of which really takes an entire weekend, and if I'd sleep less on weekends, I'd have more time to do stuff.
This is the other dilemma. My brain is so exhausted that doing anything on the weekend seems an overwhelming prospect. Once I get going, though, it's fine, it's just tricking my brain into action that is the challenge. This weekend, I did get a few things done, but not nearly as many as I had on my list. Which means I'm going to have to be very sneaky to get my brain into gear this week. And of course, I'm contemplating all the work I have to do that didn't get done because last week was packed with meetings and have been battered over the head with the realization that I'm behind before my work week even starts. Sigh.
Times like this, there's only one thing to do: go on vacation to Iceland.
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