Take the Night Off

I don’t say this lightly: take the night off.

I’m not one to stop working until things are complete. Mostly because when I do so, I never return to them. I mean, seriously. I tend to do things in obsessive spurts. And when I take a break, it’s like telling myself I give up.

But tonight, I’m taking the night off from my novel. I’m scared, I feel nauseous, and my chest is tight when I think about taking one night off. I was doing so good on my streak of writing.

But I think someone out there needs to hear this as much as I need to hear it: you are not productive just because you do something every day. You’re productive when you are happy with the end result.

So, if you have been running yourself ragged, if you feel like you can’t go on, if you feel like you need to refill your cup.

Take the night off. Off of any responsibility you thought you were going to do.

Trust me. I’m giving you (and myself) permission.



Do What You Can

Do what you can, with what you have, where you are. – Theodore Roosevelt

This is one of my favorite quotes, even when we aren’t in panic mode.

But I think it applies to our situation now too.

Do what you can is the rallying cry of homeworkers, homeschoolers, and people struggling everywhere.

However, if the internet is any measure, some people are taking the opportunity to clean things out, get rid of things, and just be productive.

But if you’re still struggling to do the simplest task, or you’re burdened by depression or anxiety, or you’re an essential worker on the front lines, my advice is the same.

Do what you can. Leave the rest.



I. Am. Tired

Author’s Note: This may be the last you hear from me for a little bit. Unfortunately, my computer passed away, and I will need time to find a replacement. I will do my best to post when I can. Thanks for understanding!

I’m exhausted. I’m drained. I’m tired. And I have spent the last hour debating on whether I should even write tonight, or if I should just sneak off to bed and deal with the mob and the pitchforks outside my window tomorrow. Because, as I’ve stated, I’m exhausted. I’m drained. I’m tired.

And the more I think about how tired I am and how I have virtually nothing to say to you, kind people of the blogosphere, I realize that I do have something to say to you: I’m exhausted. I’m drained. I’m tired.

Because I got to thinking: why do we say we’re tired? Just to complain? Or are we letting ourselves know? Are we finally acknowledging it out loud? Because if you’re anything like me, you’ve been attempting to stifle any exhaustion for weeks now. You’ve satiated your body with quick cat naps and promises that you’ll tuck yourself in early tonight.

But work calls. A reader out there needs you. Or maybe it’s just a really funny cat video. But we all know the end result: you’re up to see the sun rise as well. And if we don’t admit to ourselves that we’re actually in pain from ignoring our own needs, if we pretend that being tired is our norm, it becomes this heavy suit of armor that we wear all of the time that protects us but drags us down.

So, I’ve realized that this little phrase “I’m tired” is more than a complaint, more than a compromise. It is actually a part of a huge revolution. Admitting it to yourself will help you to take the necessary steps to take care of you, in whatever way possible. Sleep, health, relationships, whatever. I’m tired is the beginning and ending of any change you want to make in your life. You simply have to be tired enough of your current lifestyle to make the leap.

And make the leap I shall. Tonight, it is only the leap into my bed. But tomorrow? It shall be the world.