A day off

I have been put on 50 % sick leave until the end of the year. On the one hand, I get the commonly reoccuring feeling of total frustration, and a confirmation that I am really quite ill. But on the other hand, and foremost, I realise and for once actually accept that working more is impossible for me at the moment. It is also most likely very hard for me to attain within the very few three months left of this year. So every week I work 20 hours, and the other 20 hours left of the working week I do something that I believe is good for my recovery. I sleep, relax, paint, play with cute cat, do crossword puzzles, play around with my camera, meet my therapy people (the psychologist and/or psychiatrist), potter about with my plants, and work out.

Today is one of those necessary "days off", that I am not working, but I shouldn't feel stressed out about doing something special either (which I normally do on vacations/weekends). I should do something that makes me feel good in a short-term perspective, or something that makes me feel good in a long-term perspective. This particular day off has started as an exemplary feel-good day. First I went to see my excellent cognitive psychologist. We talked about how to deal with the stress I so easily feel at the moment. Very helpful, and obviously something that will help me in a long-term perspective. From that I have moved on to a couple of things that make me feel good about myself in a short-term perspective, I have: put the laundry in the machine (will hang it to dry soon), have made a new toy for cute cat, have ordered a subscription of the greatest swedish crossword puzzle magazine (Bra Korsord), have hoovered, and am as I write preparing to clean my bathroom.

The bathroom cleaning, I have to admit, is not one of my favourite pastimes. But somethings you just have to do, and I am still sure I will feel good about it afterwards. And at the moment I know without a doubt that it is time to clean my bathroom. How I can be so sure, you ask? Well, earlier I went to the toilet. My bathroom is quite small, even for one person, and when I sit down to do my lavatory buisness, the washbasin is more or less on my lap. This morning it was not so boring as it usually is, I mean, how much fun is it to wake up at 6 AM and realise you need to leave the warm and comfy bed and walk all the way over to the bathroom? But this morning it was different. I actually found myself spontaneously laughing out loud. Emerging from the plug-hole is a small sprout. I instantly realised three things.

1. It must be a seed from my muesli that has found its way to the plug-hole through one of my dental care processess.
2. It must have found something real nice to grow in, must likely a collection of my fallen off hairs. Obviously it has frequent access to fresh water.
3. It is definitely, without any doubt, about freaking time I clean my bathroom thoroughly.