Tired again. Too tired to do the things that I should be doing but too drained to sleep.
I had a day off today and I am already feeling guilty about it, even though it was thoroughly pleasant and I am fairly confident it's deserved however as midnight passes me by my brain is starting to do that irritating thing of keeping me awake worrying about all the things I actually chose not to deal with...
"Ladies and gentlemen, a tap dance..."
Richard Gere is tap dancing for all he's worth (several million) on my TV right now, I like a good musical when I can't sleep, it allows me to escape and wonder about what could have happened if I had decided to just take direction rather than issue it.
What was I talking about?
Feeling guilty about taking time off...being too tired too sleep...yes, so I have a frightening amount of work to get through in this next week, probably more than a weeks worth and I am awake, engaging my brain enough to write this, but not enough to tackle some of the minor tasks, some of the little tasks on top of a rather dense pile that would make my week pass more smoothly.
For some reason though writing this will give me a feeling of some sort of acheivement, enough to stave off the guilt until tomorrow morning, even though it doesn't serve any real purpose. When the sun comes in through the skylight window above my bed and my coffee is on the boil everything will, I know, be so much more surmountable in the stark, dry Monday morning light of day and all of this worry will dissapate into the ether, into nothing and seem silly.
But it's not silly right now...I'm worried...worried that a relaxing day off is now seemingly in vain because I am ruining it with fucking worry!!! Fucksake...
Worried that I am overthinking all of this...
Worried that I haven't blogged enough...now that's silly.
Worried that I'm not doing the right thing.
Worried about money
Worried about my health
Worried about my relationships
Worried about work
Worried about blogging about worry
Less worried about tomorrow