It takes a great lot of ignorance towards guilt and suppression of anxiety to overcome one day of rest when you should not be resting at all.
At least for me it does.
And as such I was sure that I would be unsure of my feelings towards the end of the day, which has now arrived.
In a few hours I would have my dinner and close my eyes from an utterly un-productive and completely idle day. But I should not feel so bad after all.
My friends, my family, and some who barely know me, complain and sometimes just point out that I work too much and I stress too hard. Even after not being a figure remotely close to a complete workaholic and monotonously boring man, I do hear those remarks a lot.
And so towards this end of this day, I am having a small debate with me, not of whether I should be feeling bad or not about wasting the entire day, but just about whether or not I should leave for work before the sun rises tomorrow, and which excuse I should make then for those who were connected to my work.
Well thus, is the end of each of those rare days I spend doing nothing. The poetic blissful descriptions of people lying down on grass, with nothing but the horizon surrounding them, with a shower of light and a stream of idle time, thus does not seem a very practical option for me. I don’t if know this is a good thing or something bad, for we have equally weighted arguments for both sides of this debate.
So I will just go take a shower, forget about the day, plan for the ones to come, and resume the show.