I had planned to go to the grocery store yesterday after work and then come home and write. I have a short story that's clamoring to get out of my head, and yesterday morning, I wanted to scroll through my blogs and assemble a manuscript.
If yesterday had been today, and I hadn't had to leave the house so early, I'd have looked through both blogs for my meditations about feast days. On my theology blog, I have fairly straightforward reflections about the lives of the saints and how they resonate for modern people. On my creativity blog, I have often written about how to celebrate these festival days as creative people, even if the spiritual side of the feast day holds no appeal. I also have some recipes here and there. I thought about the possibility of photo essays, although I know that with a traditional book, photos would be too expensive.
Last night I intended to put it all in chronological order to see what I have already. I made a supper of pasta with a pesto cream sauce that I concocted. At 6:30, I sat down at the computer with good intention. And then a bone-crushing tiredness washed over me.
My spouse was teaching his night class. I knew he wouldn't be home until after 10, and I'd likely be up with him for a bit then. And thus, I went to bed at 7:15. I fell asleep right away, and only woke up when I heard my spouse's key in the door.
On the one hand, I felt like an odd sort of failure--even toddlers stay up later than I did yesterday! But I also know that when I ignore that bone-crushing tiredness day after day, my body will get my attention in a more dramatic way. Some days, it's better to sleep.
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