I haven’t been feeling very well lately. Now I’ve found myself at home with no pressing deadlines so it’s time to take a sick day.
To the logical mind this shouldn’t present any obvious problems. I can already clearly identify what I’d like to be doing while I’m sick. I have a couch and about a million Woody Allen films to get through.
Frustratingly, I am unable to rest in the uncomplicated bliss of logic. Instead, I’ve spent the day (until now, around 2.30pm) trying to achieve things, because a whole day of doing nothing seems to bring about as much guilt and projected doom about my future as a downward spiral into intravenous drug use.
I’m writing this post now because it seems to be the best combination of “hobby” and “pressing task on to-do-list” that I can find.
I thought I’d found another one this morning. Just yesterday I was thinking about how I would like to spend more time reading. So this morning I decided that a sick day would allow me to achieve my goal of “reading more”. But that’s not enjoying a pastime – it’s achieving a goal. When I fell asleep while reading the whole plan came unstuck. I wasn’t “reading more” at all.
So prepare for an onslaught of posts. I’m resigned to my obsessive need to achieve the hell out of everything . Even on a sick day. And I’ll tell myself I’m enjoying every minute.