Some days start like an explosion. I was thinking of the times in my life when that happened regularly: on vacation; when newly in love; during the first weeks of an unfamiliar undertaking. Every day, then, would be filled with adventures. I would leap out of bed like a shot, ready to welcome the morning, and whatever experiences might await.
That rarely happens lately. Even if I’m wide awake, having gotten a full eight hours – or even more – of sleep…with only minor interruptions from dreams or nature’s call…I could happily lay abed most mornings. “Get up,” I tell myself, and then run through the reasons why I should. And I do get up, then, but without enthusiasm.
Some days, after the heater is on and the coffee is brewed, I warm up to the tasks and projects at hand. Not today. Not so far, anyway. This morning, I started slowly and have continued without zeal. On days like this, the small things are big accomplishments: roll over; get up; breathe in, breathe out.
Today, the smallest achievements are noted. Credit must be taken, after all. Even on this lazy day:
- I made the bed before the dogs claimed the space for their nap,
- drank an entire pot of coffee
- while I caught up on the news,
- and unsubscribed to a dozen sites that have been clogging my in-box.
- I took two phone calls,
- greeted one surprise visitor at the door (in my pajamas, no less!),
- and have been slowly but surely working my way through yesterday‘s “to-do” list.
This bit of writing gives me one more item that I can check off.
It’s now 1 P.M. I should get out of these pajamas. There is still time to turn this day around!
