You know that moment when the crushing fatigue sits on your head and you look at the floor and just want to collapse on the soft rug and curl up and sleep? Oooooh! And if there might be a blanket and a couch, man--watch out. This is the workplace danger of working from home. Especially if there's a little dog with those sad eyes who just really wants to snuggle up for a nap. But there are hours and hours of work left to do, so you don't .You don't rest. You don't stop. Instead you grab coffee or do a desk-chair yoga moment of trying to get the blood to flow back up to your head. Gotta get things done, finish the project, find the answer, create the magic. Go.
This morning's Daily Compass is singing my song. How DID I get to be an adult without realizing that I need rest? How did I get in this spot of having way too much to do, no time for friends and family and no plan at all for what to do next? Where is my "slow" speed?
I should write this down on a sticky note and stick it on my bathroom mirror so I don't have to learn this again. And again. "SLOW DOWN"
And then somehow I'm six again, and my grandmother is singing Simon and Garfunkel to me:
Slow down, you move too fast, gotta make the mornin' last, just kickin' down the cobblestones.....
I'll let you finish the song.