The Unsuccessful Day Off
Today is my day off and I have done nothing. I want to say that surprises me. It doesn't.
Last week I wrote a list of things to do this week, most of which I would have to accomplish during my two days off (Tuesday was the first), and I've crossed only one item off that list.
This is my typical behaviour in the summer. Plan. Promise to accomplish plan. Accomplish, at most, less then what I planned.
My concern, of course, is not that I've settled (in August) into a lazy summer routine, but that this summer funk could last longer than it should, well past October. It could be months, maybe years before I break this cycle of non-accomplishment.
Maybe I'm just tired and that's why I can't open the 600-page book sitting 10 inches from me? Or maybe I'm entering my first phase of being a slacker.
I had the uncomfortable thought this morning that I will never accomplish anything in my life. That I'm doomed to failure because I can't summon the energy to work hard enough for what I want.
I had that same uncomfortable thought about 30 minutes ago. I'm rambling, can't you see?
And a week ago I felt confident. I could make things work. I would succeed.
But what was a feeling a week ago is not the same seven days later. Isn't that right?