Recovering from a lazy weekend

After a long week of going 100 mph non-stop, the weekend becomes an escape, a time to engage the parking brake and relax. That sounds nice, and makes perfect sense, right? Of course it does...unless there were things that really needed to get done this weekend, that required you staying somewhere between 20 and 50 mph on the speedometer of accomplishment, so that all the personal tasks you'd been putting aside all week could get done before the next week kicked you back to fifth gear, full speed ahead.

For those who are completely lost in my bad analogy, it comes down to this: I had a lot of things around the house that I wanted (or needed) to get done this weekend. But I had such a good time relaxing that nothing got done. So here it is, 11 p.m. on Sunday night, and I'm trying to play catch up...trying to decide what absolutely must get done tonight, and what I can postpone until Thursday...and trying to decide exactly how much sleep I need to get tonight to function tomorrow.

I hate nights like this...it takes all the fun out of what had been a really great weekend.

Where I am: Home
What I'm reading: The Tall Pine Polka by Lorna Landvik

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