Time was, this blog wasn't even a part of my life. Now, I'm away five days and I've felt its absence.
The first three days were fun -- we headed out on holiday. You can read all about it here and here.
Monday, not so fun. Started off writing, then was felled like a tree in the forest by -- what? I'm not sure. I think it was cumulative fatigue. Just couldn't do a thing.
I think I underestimated the stress of the past few weeks (months, years ...). I suppose if you've kept up with the blog, you might be thinking, "Well, yeah, this is Stress City, baby." But frankly, it didn't really feel that way. Even in the peskiest times, it was so clearly the right choice that I never thought out loud about being stressed. Optimism? Maybe.
It's kind of painful having a sick day when you're your own boss. Nobody else is going to do the work that you have planned to do. It will just have to get done the next day. And if you miss a deadline (and, yes, I do have deadlines in my life again), then you lose out on opportunity.
I tend to work in cycles of alternating super-productive days and ok-productive days. Last week was super productive. This week cannot be just ok-productive.
So, with that in mind, I'm off to bed. Mucho writing tomorrow.

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