Lucky 7

I had a stress dream last night that I was overseeing a 50-person business proposal in a humongous glass building.

When I told my staff they had to work thru the weekend, they initiated a mutiny against me.

So I spent the rest of the dream unsuccessfully begging my way back into their good graces.

Good grief.

I don’t think you can get a more first-world-problem dream than that.

Regardless, I woke up mentally exhausted.

I think it’s going to be a 2-cuppa morning.

It’s not a big leap, figuring out that dream.

I am, and have always been, very involved with my work. My own choice. I happen to like what I do.

That being said, come April 1, my days are going to get overbooked. For how long, I know not. But I know it’s coming.

I can see the wave approaching.

In theory it’s all going to be fine. Nothing too daunting. Just crowded for a time.

Had I been a scout, I’d have my badges ready.

I simply need to ensure that the work/life balance I vowed to uphold in 2019 is being honoured and protected in 2022.

Like a flower to the sun, I tend to lean towards work. Three years ago I told myself to straighten up.

Sometimes I slip.

So today is going to be a lazy seventh day:

  • A warm beverage in bed accompanied by on-purpose slightly burnt toast covered with Irish butter.
  • Absolutely the NYTIMES wordle and spelling bee challenges.
  • Maybe eke in a few minutes over at Instagram.
  • Tonight it’s a Bolognese dinner and a movie.
  • And somewhere in the middle there’s a shower and wine store run.

That’s it.

That’s my entire day planned out.

If “planned” is even the right word.

And I make no bones about it … I am all too aware of the shamrock I hold.

Stay safe.

Happy Sunday.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.