I’ve been super busy lately, and I’m starting to feel the crunch. The familiar it’s-the-middle-of-the-night-so-my-brain-is-all-OMG came crashing into me last night.
It goes something like this: you’re exhausted after a long day of work and housekeeping and all that, your eyes are heavy, you’re just about to drift off, and BAM! Just before you nod away into precious slumber, your brain decides it’s time to kick things into high gear. Suddenly you are aware of every single little thing that you didn’t accomplish today. Without warning, you’re even planning for tomorrow. If you’re especially lucky, you’re also panicking because you forgot one or two very important things that you need to take care of right now, dammit. Because your brain is a bossy son of a mother.
Why is it that we do this? Why do we feel like what we’ve already accomplished is not enough? There’s a saying that many of us utter, that we need more hours in a day. Where do we draw the line?
Today I’m exhausted and not feeling very motivated to tackle my To Do list. Last night, I managed to fight the urge to jump out of bed and fix the boo-boos, but I tossed and turned for quite a while, fighting that little voice in my head that insisted these were urgent matters. As Britt Reints says, I had to stop should-ing on myself.
This anxious energy that engulfs me when I go into full schedule mode is combatted only by a few things. This is my body and mind telling me that my plate is full, so I have to listen and take action.
- I have to consciously say no to anything else that comes my way.
- I have to make sure I write my To Do list before bed every night, so those urgent things don’t keep me awake.
- I have to make a master list of everything and prioritize.
And still, because I’m human, I inevitably forget something or make a mistake. Like the fact that I scheduled a release party on Facebook smack in the middle of a holiday weekend. Whoops.
When enough doesn’t feel like enough, it’s time to step back and draw a line. Be assertive and say no, give yourself permission to relax. You’re only one person.
As am I.