I took an actual day off, today. Well, most of a day off.
Possibly 50% of a day off.
Because a Mum’s work is never done. I can’t have a complete day off.
The dog got out and I had to go catch him. Invisible fences are looking increasingly attractive right now.
And I spent the afternoon teaching Mayhem (my eldest) that playing with the dog is fun.
That was exhausting. But fun.
But I didn’t get any writing done. Not one word. Not one line. Not even in a fanfic.
OTOH, I did get a whole page done, yesterday. At the pace I go at, that’s lightening speed.
When I write, I sometimes have pages and pages of ideas battling for priority. Sometimes it’s a battle to get one sentence out.
In the latter occasions, I need a break to let some more ideas percolate through my skull. Sometimes I just veg in front of the TV. Sometimes it’s Minecraft. Most of the time, it’s fanfic.
Today, I just slugged in front of the PC for half the day. Zen and the art of fartarsing around.
I did absolutely nothing and I loved it.
Why are the most enjoyable things the things that wind up wasting our time?