I've been feeling really tired and low lately, so DH took the kids away for two nights to give me a break.
I'm meant to have rested, slept, done things which fill my cup etc. I followed the brief. I crafted, enjoyed a coffee in the sunshine, listened to birdsong, went for a walk among the bluebells, started watching a new series, made myself a delicious dinner, read my book and had a lovely lie in both mornings. Was blissful. I also put a load of laundry on the line (anyone else find that satisfying?) and did a bit of prep as I'm working tomorrow. It was lovely to do things at my own pace and not feel pressured or rushed.
But, now they're en route back and all I can see is the overwhelming to do list. There's half finished diy, daily chores, washing up, tidying, planting, cleaning, mending etc. The lead weight on my chest is back, my head is buzzing again and I'm wishing I'd done more of it whilst I had the house to myself.
Why does my brain do this to me? I was meant to have a break...I had a break. Wish I could put the guilt back in its box and tell it to shu da fuh cup! Bleugh.
No reason for the post really, just lamenting at my brain.