Playing Hooky

This has been one of those mornings that would have been better off if I had just turned around and gone back to bed. I made the sleepy morning decision to skip the gym in favor of extra sleep, which in principle was probably a good idea for my exhausted, overtrained body, but in reality left me with only a few minutes of added snoozing and a major guilty feeling when I finally did roll out of bed. Add to that a few laps around the house trying to chase the puppy into her kennel (someone's not getting enough attention now that mom and dad are both working during the day) and an unsettling bite out of my wallet in the space of about 20 minutes (dropped off the rent check and then had to stop for gas, which might as well be liquid gold these days), and you have all the ingredients for a very grumpy morning. I am running dangerously low on energy, motivation, and patience, and I am essentially unfit to do anything other than prop myself up at my desk and watch the clock.

(Since someone shared this with me a few weeks ago, I have literally pulled up this picture every day. Makes me laugh every. single. time. I know how you feel, Ambrose.)

In an attempt to be productive/pull myself out of my funk, I hit up the usually foolproof Pinterest for some easter-y goodness, but even browsing that tried-and-true pick-me-up just left me disappointed... and hungry for chocolate eggs. Humph.

So I headed off to the kitchen, because nothing redeems a morning like an English muffin with the best jelly in the whole wide world, right?

To the random guy in the jelly aisle months ago who practically forced me to buy this brand because "it's life-changing"... I'm sorry for thinking you were creepy. You're absolutely right -- my life is better. I owe you one.

Now, one burnt thumb, one burnt English muffin, and one "why on earth did I put this empty jar of jelly back in the fridge?!" moment later, my day still has not improved. Humph.

So today, since I'm left at a complete loss as for how to salvage the hours between now and bedtime, I am going to do something I never do: I am combining half a personal day with a bit of overtime I've already worked this week. I am leaving the office at noon. I am going home, spending a little time at the gym, eating a real lunch, and taking poor neglected Tess to the dog park for a little sunshine. Then I am going to bed for a long, blissful nap. And I am going to try like hell not to feel guilty about any of it. Hopefully, a few hours spent taking care of myself is all I need to snap myself out of this exhaustion, recharge my battery, and get back to feeling like a real person again. Fingers crossed.

   Love,

    Meg