I know people who work all the time. For them, it’s a source of pride. I’m not one of those people. The kind who takes pride in it, anyway. Two weekends ago I found myself collapsed in a reclining chair, depleted. There is no other word. No energy in any limb, barely able to think, and honestly on the verge of tears. In the preceding weeks and days leading up to that weekend, I’d spread myself so thin, tried to complete so many things, there was just nothing left. Zero. It happens several times a year, and I’m working to fix it.
By Steve Watkins | 5/3/21