I didn’t go to work today. I stayed home and took care of myself. I did not sleep away the day, or do nothing but watch movies or television; instead, I wrote letters, emails, stories. I built structures with my “zen” blocks, tore them down, and then built new ones. I listened to Dan Carlin tell me about Rasputin and Woodrow Wilson and the end of the First World War. I found a fun recipe, bought groceries, and made a delicious dinner. I shoveled the lane in front of our house and then did fifty consecutive pushups; I tried to do sit-ups after that, but failed after fewer than a dozen. I read a few articles, read two chapters of a book, and now am getting ready to go to sleep.

It wasn’t a productive day — I have an incredible amount of work to get done and taking a day off was a horrible idea when it comes to my professional to-do list — but it was a stimulating, invigorating one. I have been struggling, recently. There is too much to do, and I am not accomplishing what I had set out to get done. Parts of life and work are falling through the cracks, and I am overwhelmed, frustrated, almost-defeated. I am finding it hard to take the time to breathe, no matter how hard I try.

I needed a day off to myself, a “mental health” day of sorts. On this day off, I kept myself stimulated, active, engaged; I did not allow myself to wallow, and for that, I feel better, already. I will return to work tomorrow and undoubtedly struggle through the day, but at least, for now, I am breathing, I am thinking clearly, and I know that whatever is bringing me down, this too shall pass.


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