A Day Off

Yesterday I took the day off.


It was marvellous and wonderful. 

Hang on a minute!! I only have 2 hours a week of structured work. The rest of the time I do stickman doodles, and tell people I'm a genius in the hope that they buy my products - with frequent sofa breaks, and try to 'pace' - which means try to keep as active as I can while respecting my body's limits and steering clear of Collapse Due to Existing Medical Conditions. Because Collapse is not fun.


So I often have several days a week at home, not doing anything. Resting so I can get through the next day, or lying down for a bit so I am 'with it' enough to have a conversation etc.


Surely this makes most days a holiday? How would you need a rest from that?? 


That is what I thought too.


Until yesterday.


At 3am I realised that if I didn't find a way to step back I would land in hospital again.


What more could I do to help myself? I keep having 'home' days and it isn't making a big difference. Plus I'm not sleeping.


A Holiday. 


From everything. A day of doing whatever I fancied, with one rule: it must be relaxing.


No stickmen, no book publicity, no preparing for medical appointments, no facebook, twitter or emails. No sorting domestic issues or planning finances. No laundry. No thinking about tomorrow. And unashamedly tipping all the days tasks onto the next day's list.


And then relishing the luxury of doing nothing much - not out of necessity, but because I decided too. The difference between a day off work because you have the flu, and a holiday.


The knowledge that no-one and nothing could stop this day being completely and entirely: Mine.

Bath, book, flowers. Allowing my brain to stop.


And today? I am still physically very tired, but underneath it I feel so much better. 


Every week from now I intend to have a 'Holiday' day. And I think it may just do the trick.