Monday
It's being Monday. It's being the Monday before Thanksgiving. It's being the Monday before Thanksgiving with the prospect of losing the afternoon and evening (normally used for T-day prep) to music--a much pleasanter alternative, but then the work's still to do. The small amount of cleanup I did yesterday reinforced my depression rather than helping it. Trying to organize/straighten/clean always dumps huge loads of guilt on me for having let things get into this state, and the guilt is immobilizing and exhausting. So far haven't been able to unhook the two. So doing something that makes me feel good--like I've accomplished something worthwhile--without imposing the load of guilt and misery, such as cooking, writing, music-practice, laundry, going out on the land--usually ( if not always) wins over doing something that a) I know won't last (entropy being what it is) and b) is physically uncomfortable, and c) causes any lurking depression to knock me over the edge of the cliff.
It's no good saying "just work for 15 minutes at a time" because 15 minutes at a time is just enough to start sorting a pile--leaving it a scattered mess, not a pile--or to move a pile from one place to another.
Well, so...whine away, silly little soul, and then get back to work.
It's no good saying "just work for 15 minutes at a time" because 15 minutes at a time is just enough to start sorting a pile--leaving it a scattered mess, not a pile--or to move a pile from one place to another.
Well, so...whine away, silly little soul, and then get back to work.