Permission to be Slack

So, that was my designated, midweek collapse relax day.

It was lovely, and I feel topped up with enough energy to get me through the next two days of Arvo Jobbing, but I didn't really get much done.

 I slept in, I read, I did a spot of gardening, I napped, I read, I exercised, I napped...

I did squeeze in a couple of hours of writing, which made me happy, but couldn't help but feel that it wasn't much considering I had a whole day at my disposal. I've spent so many hours this year just, well, recuperating. I know, I know, it could have been worse - I might not be recuperating. But alas, for 'tis part of my nature, I can't help thinking of all the countless hours from this year that have just sublimed into the ether, and grumbling about how far behind I am with my writing plans, and wondering how much longer this is all going to go on for and when I can get serious about setting goals and targets and deadlines and such stuff again. I keep wondering how long it's going to take just to get back to where I was over a year ago, before being Not Well started to seriously sap my energy and sidetrack my days. And always, I know it's ungrateful of me to do anything but celebrate that I'm on the road to recovery (cross fingers and toes).

Not getting much done really is the whole point of having these Wednesdays off, so please, just ignore me and my whinging. I'm being unreasonable. I'm an impatient patient, that's all.