Today I did absolutely nothing.
I got up as usual, got dressed as usual, and got my son ready as usual. Then, I realized he was in no shape to go to daycare. So I sat on my couch. And did nothing. All day.
First, I contemplated the fact that I wished Conlan would let me know the night before whether he planned to be ill, so we could all sleep in rather than wake up at the ridiculous hour of 5:15. Then, I contemplated my day. Surely, since I was up and at ’em at 6:30 I could so some fabulous things around the house.
I lack serious momentum when I don’t have a plan. I’m not a good fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants stay-at-home-er. When I know I’ll have a day off, I make a mental list of all the things I want to get done. I can put a serious dent in the housework, do some baking, and stock my freezer with pre-prepared meals. When a free day falls in my lap, I’m pretty lost.
So, here I sit. I’m thankful that these days don’t happen terribly often because they feel crummy. I feel like a bump on a log and, quite frankly, useless. Then, as the day wears on I become increasingly irritated with myself at how unproductive I continue to be. In fact, since we’re this far into the day and I haven’t done anything of value yet, why start now? The day’s almost over, and I’ll do better tomorrow. Perfectly logical, right? Argh… I drive myself crazy sometimes.
I’ll be happy when tomorrow comes and I can get back into my regular routine. I’m a better wife & mother when I have some momentum to carry me all the way through the day. It seems counterintuitive that I can be so much more productive when I have so many more things to cram into my schedule, but I guess that was the way I was created. I work better under pressure and with firm deadlines. Firm deadlines like, “My family likes to eat dinner.” Not flexible deadlines like, “Maybe sometime today I’ll fold the laundry and bake cookies.”
Speaking of dinner, I should probably get to that. I have a deadline looming.