It's been a hard, hot couple of weeks. Not even coffee is reviving me lately.
Between building our outdoor patio at the restaurant, finishing up new album prep work, and being a mom, I'm zapped. I've tried to combat the fatigue with my usual will power and self-discipline.
I am the Yoda of self-discipline.
Give me a diet, I'll follow it. Give me an assignment, I'll move mountains to complete it. Anything you throw at me, I'll knock it out of the park eventually.
But apparently, I'm not very disciplined at being kind to myself.
Reader, I wonder why it is that we can work our bodies til they're sore, work our minds until they're foggy, work our hearts until they're empty, but we can't work to carve out time to care for ourselves? I just worked seven 10-hour days in a row, but I don't know how to take an hour to read a book. What on earth is wrong with me?! (Besides the fact that I'm a self-punishing maniac). I'm honestly not sure. But I do know one thing:
I'm so ready to be just as regimented about taking a break as I am about working.
And with that, I'm off to bed. I just got a new book that I can't wait to dive into, and I've got a song I'd like to finish. I look forward to opening my restaurant this week with planned breaks every now and then.
If quarantine taught me anything, it's that life is too short to do nothing but work and pay bills. See you next Monday. -Em