Ok, so today marks nearly a month since I started back at work after my little meltdown re looking after kids and not being able to do any meaningful work. I began well, out of the blocks at full tilt, and as usual, I’m now slowing down into a more leisurely pace. Paid work of all kinds is starting to get in the way a little bit, and I am getting very tired, too, as I try to find ways to work 6 days a week without it impacting on my mental health.
So, Monday: a good day: meeting with supervisor, she likes me, I passed. Tuesday, a slow day, but finished a transcript. Wednesday – a write off – I am at home then, and I teach most of the day, so I only had time to buy some groceries. Thursday: well… this is where it gets tricky. You see, I foolishly accepted a little gig helping out a school choir this afternoon and I’ll be going to a friend’s house beforehand, so, I COULD have done some work this morning at home, but I didn’t. I am writing in my blog. I vacuumed the floor upstairs. I responded to a survey. I could actually do some work now, but my day has already been used up. So, a waste of a day. Perhaps I could do some work for my employer. Yes, that’s it, I’ll do that. Because a bitser of a day at the start means a bitser of the day the whole way, and I can’t think what I need to do at the moment in my PhD.
Oh, okay, I’m procrastinating. I admit it. I know what I need to do. I’ll do it tomorrow, promise. And Sunday, too. Pinky Promise.