There’s an Everest-high pile of things I want to do every day, and I never get through all of it. I constantly feel like I’m chasing something all day long, every day.
I’m a mom; this is reality. I’m also tired. (Because I’m a mom.)
Yet I’m often tempted to pull an all-nighter to just get through my task list, despite the obvious consequences (I did this once in college to finish a design project and felt like garbage the next day – puffy eyes that couldn’t hold my contacts in looked out at a foggy world, and my brain couldn’t believe where the overnight hours actually went since they didn’t feel quite so productive, in the end).
I could catch up on my Writer’s Digest issues. I could get further along in my final edit of the fiction novel I’m writing. I could work on my novel plot for this November’s NaNoWriMo. I could finish the novel I’m reading. I could do some practice sketches for an oil painting my husband commissioned.
Or … I could sleep. Truly, it’s a toss-up.