I (Heart) Snow!
I never give burnout enough street cred, and I always underestimate how long it takes to mentally and physically recover from it. Even as part of me is trying to relax and just live for a bit, not worrying so much about what I'm not accomplishing; the other part feels worry that I'll never get motivated again, never get back on track. Then, I rejoinder with the justifications of the not-so-little recovery effort after the falling-six-feet-off-the-ladder thing, and the hours of locating and filing paperwork for the ongoing-IRS-Goodwill-Tour (audit) thing, which are very legit time and energy sucks, and yet, my superhuman expectations of myself fuel the internal critic, who is wormtongue-ing in my brain, "You should be writing fiction everyday, you should be writing stories to submit to magazines, you should be researching photo money-making opportunities, you should be pressing all your contacts for story jobs, you should be..." Why, why, why is it so hard for me to let go? Why can't I simply take this time to work my little co-op job, do my yoga, spend time with my hubby, and regroup without all the emotional baggage? Anyone know how to turn off, or amp down the What-Have-You-Done-With-Your-Life-Lately Monster?
1 Comments:
I hereby grant you permission, publicly, to say WTF and let it all go. If you wanna cashier the rest of your days, have at it, so long as you're happy, ya?
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