Sunday Nightitis

Why do we feel so compelled to rob the present to serve the future?

It's only 4PM on the Sunday of a long weekend and I've already started to worry about work, already started to mentally plan all of the tasks I have to accomplish and silently composing email in my head.

I kinda hate Sundays. They're a day off, which is great, but they're bittersweet, because they come tinged with sadness. You know you can't stay up late, or go out, because you're facing the most dreaded day of the week, Monday. Sometimes I think I should just work fewer hour, 7 days a week to keep this from happening. I'm not being flippant. It's like summer holidays with children - you almost forget what you learned and spend the first few days of the week adjusting.

For me, weekends are a bit of a struggle. Did I do too little or too much? Will I feel rested and rejuvenated or worn out? This weekend I decided to do nothing, the second such weekend in a row (gasp).  For the most part, other than a brief shopping trip performed when Char was napping and Daddy was happily ensconced in front of the TV watching baseball, I did nothing. Did I feel rejuvenated?  Actually no, I felt like a slug. So the balance, this weekend went too far to the "do nothing" side.

Unfortunately, having time on my hands gave me time to start thinking about my week. And I have to admit, dread crawled in there and took up residence. Not a good sign, in my humble opinion. The drive to the next weekend begins Monday morning and we find ourselves wishing our days away. Before you know it, you're 50 and looking back and thinking, what happened? I don't think that's what we're meant to do or why we're on the planet. I could be wrong.

I promised myself I'd do one thing differently this week. I will only work between 9am and 6pm this one week as an experiment to see if it will lower my stress levels.  It will be surprisingly difficult, I think. It's a huge week and people have become very accustomed to me responding to email and even phone calls until I go to bed. On one such occasion, I was trying to put my daughter in her crib when the phone vibrated, over and over again.  You can't imagine the angst spiral that came out of that experience.

But boundaries are my responsibility, not theirs.

And so I start this week, trying not to be mentally "on the clock" just yet, with a view to keeping my hours to 45.  At least I don't view 40 hours as part time, like so many people right now.

Wish me luck!