The Long Weekend
Three days come and gone and I'm left with that empty feeling usually reserved for Sunday nights. The oppressive heatwave over LA has finally broken, replaced with overcast skies and the threat of showers. Does wonders for my head, the barometric pressure changes.
Do I feel this way because it is another few days of liberty over before getting back to the weekday grind? I don't hate my job. Sure, it stresses me out, but the dread I feel thinking about it when I've been off work for a few days seems disproportionate.
Is it because I never feel like I accomplish enough writing during this precious free time? I managed to write almost 3,000 words this weekend (mostly thanks to a writing group meetup) and have spent the last two hours in Scrivener getting my plot-lines organized.
Perhaps I feel like I haven't relaxed hard enough, recharged the proper amount for the coming week? After three days, you'd think this wouldn't be it, but who knows. I did a decent amount of gaming and other extracurricular activities. It should have been enough!
I took a nap today, unfortunately. It reaffirmed my hatred of them. I doze in and out, unable to get comfortable, wasting the day away and wake up feeling more tired than when I went to bed. At least it wasn't dark out when I woke. That's the worst.
So now, in the last few hours I have before my work week begins, I will sink deeper into this mood. I'll have some dinner. I'll whittle away the hours until bedtime and look to my next breath of air, next weekend.