Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

I am lackadaisical. Should have gotten out of bed and gone to the health club to swim. But didn’t. Should have played an hour of piano to keep my fingers nimble. But didn’t. Should have packed some boxes for our pending move. But didn’t do that either.

Regardless of what’s going on in one’s life, there are times when it’s appropriate to take a day off. Sometimes you can plan it, but other times it forces itself on you unbidden. For today, for instance, I had high hopes, as described in my first paragraph. But when I stayed in bed after 8 AM, I knew things would have to adjust. I didn’t work out, practice piano, or pack a single box. Instead, I puttered, enjoyed a latte at the local Starbuck’s, got a flu shot, and spent much of the evening staring at the fire in our fireplace. After all, I won’t get to do that much longer.

So which is more productive? The day where you meet all your goals? Or the day where you lounge, still accomplish, and go to bed early? I can’t decide between the two since I think both are equally important.