Every Day Is a Weekend

I am not abnormally busy and yet, my body and brain are POOPED. I’m tired. I’m uninspired as far as writing goes. I’m in need of a break.

The funny thing is that I normally work two days a week. I don’t do anything incredibly difficult or physically or mentally taxing, but something about my sporadic schedule is getting to me. I operate best at insanely busy. I am the person who does not do well with time out. So why do I need a break, you ask? Well, maybe “break” is the wrong word. I need some time that feels like a break. Now, on days that I’m not working, I feel like I need to save up on doing nothing, which is tiring in and of itself. I treat those days like a weekend, but in reality, almost every day is off for me.

Again, I would love to fill my days with exciting adventures that I won’t be able to do when I have a full time job, but those things cost money, and exploring alone is not exactly ideal.

Believe I know how privileged I sound, but we all need something to complain about. I operate best at manic. I would work 24 hours a day, if someone would let me, but no one has taken notice yet.

Yet.

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