Another weekend, come & gone. Another task list several line items in length, barely dented. I was fairly well-rested at the onset of this day; drained by the end. And now it’s a game of, “Do I push to accomplish more in the 11th hour? Or do I conserve strength and resume tomorrow, better rested than I would be had I continued to work?”
It’s a practice in detachment. Obligations I have to myself, and to others, simply need to be momentarily postponed. Because life, as I’ve said before and I’ll say again, doesn’t give a damn about your plans. I can’t budget time for the unexpected.
There are some parallels between work and life, in that respect: my department is tiny, within an already-minimal company; I wear many hats, and doing so requires me to on some days reprioritize my workflow on an hourly basis. The same process can occur on even the lougiest of Sundays at home. Shit comes up; you assess its importance; you deal with it; you return to your self-prescribed goals when you can.
It’s a practice in living guilt-free, too. Feeling like I’ve failed or disappointed…whether it be myself or others…a lame, rouge rain cloud that will hang over my head until I rectify my missed responsibilities/opportunities. Shit happens. People understand. If they don’t…well, then you oughtn’t owe them squat, anyway. What you do owe is a fair/fighting chance to yourself. If I could have a superpower, it’d be to create an exact amount self-duplicates. I would then disperse them in an efficiently tactical manner, whereby completing any given day’s work exactly the way I’d like it to be done.
I don’t have a superpower.
What I do have is a dream. Or I will soon, when I close my laptop and go to sleep after I finish this post. Grateful that I’m learning how to avoid spreading myself too thin, and when to hang it up for the day.