Why does the guilt eat me alive when the weekend is almost over and I was not productive? I did paint, but anything else? Nothing. Zip. Zero. Zilch.
I have been truly exhausted. So exhausted I feel ill. Last night I laid down at 7 pm. I woke up at 4:30 am. So strange for me to sleep that long.
I guess I needed it.
And here I am facing Monday thinking of all the things I could have accomplished.
Clean the garage.
Clean out drawers.
My house was already clean because I cleaned it Thursday and finished all of the laundry as well, just so I wouldn’t be stuck doing it over the weekend. So why the guilt?
I have to remind myself to listen to my body.
But it is so, dang hard.