Having just come off a week of travel for work, followed by another week of playing catch-up on my work and home life, I was itching to write. I always feel this way when I take long breaks from doing the creative things I love, the stuff that feeds my soul. I was daydreaming about it. I had so many ideas and was so inspired, I thought I could simply carve out some time and dedicate it to writing. Easy peasy, right? hashtag gettingstuffdone hashtag makingstuffhapen I was totally high-fiving myself for this.
On Thursday I made my weekend plans: wake up around 6am on Saturday, have my coffee, start the writing, work on graphics, do some more writing, maybe eat something at some point, possibly shower and put clothes on, then, later in the day, take some pictures. Repeat on Sunday. Celebrate.
Friday morning arrived, and with it came the most god awful flu that I can ever recall having. It was evil. I had body aches, a fever, sinus congestion, couching, sore throat, post nasal drip… you get the idea. With only one day to go before my planned weekend of doing nothing other than writing and indulging myself in creative pursuits, I was facing the
possibility reality of being benched. I was throwing a tantrum in my mind, and it didn’t end there.