A part of me thinks I should be "doing" more than I've done today. But the other part doesn't care.
I've been doing laundry all day and have cleaned two bathrooms. I talked to a friend on the phone (high priority), read the paper, looked at few emails, cooked some beans for lunch, made the bed, brushed my teeth, put on clothes, exercised for about 25 minutes, had a conversation with Direct TV and found out it is more expensive than what we already have, but it was a chore getting that out of the woman on the phone, read a couple of blogs...When I see it like that, it looks like I've done a lot.
But I haven't written. And that's what I think I need to be doing. I even want to, but not enough to put out the effort to do it.
Why do some of us think we have to be busy all the time? What made us this way? Our ancestors? Just because they lived on farms and had to make their own clothes, till the soil, cook from morning til night---all those things we've heard they had to do in order to survive, why do I think I still need to be as busy as they were?
If I'm alone and no one sees me goofing off, I can kill a day channel surfing or reading a book, and when I do, I feel guilty. But I really do enjoy doing those things.
So, I'm going to go read my book, "Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet" an excellent read, by the way. Then, about 2:00 I'll tune into to a couple of old episodes of "Little People, Big World." I might even take a chair nap while I'm at it.
And hopefully I won't suffer guilt because of it.