I Was a Slug All Weekend and I Regret Nothing

This weekend I did nothing. The temperature here has been sitting at 118 degrees, which means the desert has been actively trying to kill anyone who steps outside, so I didn’t. I sat on my couch. I did not open my laptop. I did not think about tools, or tasks, or the next thing on the list. I was a slug. A very content slug.

I used to think rest had to be earned. You finish the list, then you get the couch. But the list never actually finishes, it just refills itself overnight like it has a grudge against you. So this weekend I skipped the earning part and went straight to the couch, and nothing bad happened. The business didn’t notice. The world kept turning. I just felt more like myself by Sunday night than I had in weeks.

The temperature’s dropping into the 90s this week, which in the desert counts as a cold front, and I actually have plans to go outside again. But I’m glad I did the nothing first. I’m trying to be less impressed by the version of me that would have skipped straight to the next thing.

I did nothing this weekend, and it was exactly what I needed.