I’ll admit, I am a little spoiled. This morning I woke from 13 hours of sleep.
Miserable, I collapsed on my bed last night, having only had five hours of sleep the night before. Apparently that made me tired. I dreamed of many strange things. But this morning I woke up rested.
If I don’t rest, I don’t produce. I have to remember to relax, to release my grip on the pursuit of productivity. Work is not the most important part of life, even for someone who sees their job as something of a vocation, such as me. This is even more true, given the recent flare-ups of my old depression.
If the job is writing, sometimes rest is even more important that hammering on keys.
I feel so much better in the morning than I do in the evenings. So it’s important to me to work when I have the juice. With that in mind, I had better get to it.
Thanks for reading.