Doing Nothing


For the past couple of days I’ve been fighting a “something.” It’s very low-grade…nothing worth going to the doctor over. I’ve got mild chills, I’m a little achy, and I feel lethargic. This morning I was supposed to run with a friend. By yesterday afternoon I realized there’s no way I could run feeling this run-down (pun intended) so I called to cancel.

This morning I helped my mom with a quick errand, then came home and got back in bed. I’ve spent the rest of the day in that hazy, half asleep/half awake zone. I’ve felt hungry, yet not motivated enough to make a meal (I know, shocking). I managed to swirl together a fruit/protein powder smoothie a few minutes ago.

While I know complete rest is the best thing I can do, taking a full day off feels strange to me. Part of me is really enjoying the downtime (I would enjoy it more if I felt better), but another part of me is kicking myself for not doing “enough” today. In other words, I’m coming face to face with the fact that I am a compulsive do-er.

What would doing enough look like? I have no idea. I realize I never do what I feel is enough. One of my BFFs describes himself as “lazy.” He can spend his day off from work doing exactly NOTHING and not feel the least bit bothered by it. I used to find this mildly annoying; now I realize I’m jealous.

I was raised by a couple from The Greatest Generation. They were always doing productive things. My parents taught me to have a strong work ethic. I’m proud of that. But they never intended that I go and go and go until exhaustion. Somewhere along the way my hard-wiring short-circuited.

Today’s house arrest is showing me that I need to build a little rest time into each and every day (meditation, perhaps? Hmmm.) Clearly, I’ve got some work pondering to do around this issue. But first, I’m going back to bed.

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