Rough

I knew it would come - not in a self-defeating, pessimistic way, but in a realistic sense - that I would hit a tough day.

I have hit it. I am tired. My head hurts. I’m hungry. I have too much to do, and all I want to do is go sink into the couch and open some wine, and glug, glug, glug.

That won’t help - I know it won’t. Because tomorrow I’ll be even more tired, even more headachy, even hungrier, and I’ll have twice as much to do from what I didn’t do today.

I know it’s not the answer, and I don’t seriously want to be rip-roaring, but I don’t want to feel like this: tired, headachy, hungry, stressed out.

My plan: Get some food, get some aspirin, get shit done. Then I can sack out early at 8:30 if I want to. I’m on day 14, and I’m guarding it with my life.