Jet lag struck again this morning.
I had this amazing plan in place to get an early start on my day, pound out my work, practice some Spanish, and then go see some more of Madrid. But then I couldn’t fall asleep last night, which meant that when my alarm went off I had to give myself more time to sleep, and then when I woke up and tried to do my reading I kept nodding off. By the time I actually got going, it was nearly noon and I knew I’d be fighting my own disappointment as well as the jet lag all the rest of the day.
I recently downloaded another app to help myself stay on track with some of my more important goals. You know: things like logging enough work hours to pay my bills and blogging regularly. Part of what I like about it is that it encourages you to maintain streaks: you can’t cut corners, because if you do you’ll lose the nice long run you’ve build up. Part of what kept my mind whirring yesterday was how pleased I felt with myself for checking off all my habit boxes. It helped me feel I was one step closer to accomplishing some of the goals I came here for.
But there are days like today when I really really wish I didn’t care so much. Where I’m fighting myself so hard to give in, to not do that thing today, to cut myself some slack because it’s 11:06pm, and I’m tired, and I really just want to call it a day.
And then I remind myself I’m in the eleventh hour in more sense than one. In spite of my late start, I’ve pushed through. I’m so close to getting done the things I promised myself I would do today, and if that means putting off Netflix for another half hour, isn’t that worth it? Because isn’t it exactly now, right when I hate myself most for wanting to do anything, that it’s most important to double down and be the person you expect of yourself?
Maybe I expect too much of myself, and this is prelude to burn out. But that’s a conclusion for another day. In the meantime, I’m tired, and this is my blog for the day. Onward.