Gloomy, gloomy, grey, wet day. These days affect my mood more than they used to, especially when I'm left to depend on my own motivation to get anything done. The light's no good in my studio (lame excuse), I can do my shopping on a day when the stores will be less crowded (sure), it's too cold to go running (except for those runners going by outside) and too wet to go bike riding (actually I'm just afraid of my clipless pedals, but that's another story). The only thing that attracts my attention on days like this are the couch, a book, and chocolate chip cookies.
I can choose to think of my inability to keep away from the couch in two ways: either it is a failure and a waste of precious hours in a life ticking down to an uncertain end (tomorrow? 40 years from now? and what's that mole on my stomach - was it there yesterday?), or it is just the most comfortable, enriching and relaxing way to spend a day off. My inner guilt monger usually chooses the former, which spoils any hope of enjoying myself and choosing the latter.
So where does that leave me? With a short couch nap brought on by a sugar-induced insulin low, then a couple loads of clean laundry, followed by a little time in the studio instead of a lot of time. Not a bad compromise, even if I have to nag at myself for a while to attain it.
I could be using my time so much more wisely, but wouldn't that require me to be wiser?