...take a day off.
Today I need the day off. I think allergies are catching up to me. I've had one of those low-grade, annoying headaches all week, with pressure behind my eyes. I'm tired. I've decided not to go into the office - and it's a very hard decision to make.
Why? I wish I knew. Other people have no problem taking a day off. DH for instance never feels guilty about his days off, which are spent [I grudingly admit] as one should spend a day off. He lounges in front of the TV and relaxes.
On my 'days off' I do a few extra loads of laundry. I clean closets. I make ambitious plans to reorganize the entire house and parts of the Northern Hemisphere.
I can't relax.
I really wish I knew why. I have this constant, driving need to be doing something contructive at all times until my head explodes. I really hate it. I mean, I like to get things done. I like to be busy actually, and on the rare occasion I really don't have anything to do, I usually start some new project, but sheesh, I just can't shut it off.
Today should be spent lounging on the couch, watching my Torchwood DVDs or reading for pleasure. A nice breakfast, a leisurely lunch, a phone call to a friend. Meanwhile I'm sitting here frantically blogging, and planning which room I will tackle first and thinking how nice it will be to get a jump on the laundry. I already have a craft project swimming around in my head and my mind is spinning with revisions for short story I just sold to Samhain [more on that later].
Why can't I just take a sick day like the rest of world and curl up with a blankie and a cupa tea?
Don't know. Can't do it. Help!