I am full of remorse and regret for each day that goes by and not enough gets accomplished. If only the places I need to go were open past 2:30 PM. I need my morning to start later, I need plenty of prep time. Every move I make takes longer than before, and there is danger in rushing my walking pace. I could leave the house bright and early, which is possible but not enjoyable. It is below freezing in the morning and my car is coated in frost. I might get one errand finished, but the next errand was what? Without my morning nap, my brainpower goes downhill. I will arrive home too exhausted to complete my therapy routines.
I have always felt I was in a different time zone than everyone else. I will even go one step further to say, I believe I must have originated on a different planet. That would explain why I can not eat even the recommended daily dose of salt without my blood pressure going out of control. I feel fragile and freakish.
I am going to write a new to do list, and a “to don’t” with blocks of time that are more realistic. I am penciling in the crash nap, but still going to get maximum therapy time. It is my life, and I can fail if I want. Instead, I am going to rewrite my own definitions of successful.