On Monday, I had to get up at 4:30 to take my mother to her cataract surgery. Even though I tried to prepare for that early start, it messed up my sleep for the rest of the week.
When I got home Tuesday afternoon, I vegged instead of trying to do something productive. Strike two.
It wasn't that I gave up on my week at any particular point. But with each little challenge or setback, I gave up on something: I didn't make it to the gym or I didn't clean the bedroom.
Then giving up on one thing, then another snowballs into a shitty week when nothing gets done.
A friend once told me I'm very hard on myself. Sometimes that's true. Sometimes I get down on myself for all the things I didn't do, shouldn't do, did do or should do. It can be paralyzing.
That's where I am this Saturday night. Time to channel Scarlet O'Hara: I won't think about that now. I'll think about it tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day.
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