Here I am, alone in the company apartment, on a Monday evening after having put in a 12-hour day. The mental lists made of things I wanted to do once I punched out seem to have been replaced by a lethargic state of mind and passivity. So instead of working out, meditating, reading, brainstorming ideas, and/or translating texts, I am glued to the couch.
If there's one thing I am really bad at, it is just going to bed when I am too exhausted to do anything else. Instead I freeze up, like a deer caught in a pair of headlights. I fret internally, frustrated for not getting things done, as though doing nothing were a bad thing. In my desperation to not lose in the game of "How I Utilize My Spare Time, Me Being a Successful, Modern Woman and All...", I try desperately to negotiate pleabargains with my conscience:
- Well, Mrs. Månsson, if you want an extension on your exercise obligations then you simply MUST see to it that you do something tomorrow morning...
- Or OK, our client can perhaps accept you not sketching ideas about your new course ideas at this particular moment in time, but surely you can manage translating a page or two before falling into a state of unconsciousness.
If anyone wants me, I'll be the one lying with her yoga book open on her face, two minutes after having gotten into bed.
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