Sunday Night

A thunderstorm, a mug of warm spicy-chai tea, a sleepy dog curled up at my feet: the end of another weekend.

It sounds like a peaceful scenario, but as Monday looms, my neck is aching and my mind beginning to race. I have a stressful day ahead of me tomorrow, I'm already struggling with one of my new year's resolutions - well, at this moment, feels like I'm already lapsing on nearly all of them. This is probably due to the fact that I'm trying to relax while also trying to be productive. I really should have divided my time rather than combining these goals into one evening, because in the pursuit of productivity, I made a long list of tasks I wanted to accomplish this weekend that have yet to be completed - and in the pursuit of relaxation, I'm drinking tea and watching Law & Order, and thus accomplishing very little of the to-do-list - and thus stressing out, and thus not relaxing.

So I am neither productive nor relaxed at the moment. Fail and fail. Sigh.

--I just got up and washed my dishes and swept the living room so I can at least half check-off the "clean my apartment" line on the to-do list. Was that progress on my tasks, or simply procrastination on blogging?--

I have so much I wanted to do that has yet to get done. Honestly, though - there's also a lot I did do today. I had lunch with friends, I went to a board meeting, I went to a rehearsal, I drove the boy to the airport, I went to another meeting, I had coffee with friends, I wrote a few thank you notes, I submitted two play entries, I started two new writing projects, and as just mentioned, swept my living room and did my dishes.

Why is it the scene or story I have yet to write holds so much more promise than the one I actually wrote? Why is the task left undone so much weightier than any task I actually completed?

Maybe it's time for the "shifting of perspective" facet of my resolution. I'll give it a try; we'll see how it goes... that which I did not accomplish today, I will try to peacefully shift over to tomorrow, with as little self-judgment as possible. The to-dos still in queue will be given another chance to be completed. Because as a fictional Southern woman once noted, tomorrow is another day. And so:

A thunderstorm, a mug of warm spicy-chai tea, a sleepy dog curled up at my feet: the start of another week.