Weekends are for maintenance. I wrote that on an index card recently, and needed to skip last week’s letter to stay true to it. It was also a dreary day weather-wise – downright bleak – which I know is synonymous with dreary but feels an order of magnitude worse. What I’m trying to say is: I spent last Sunday mostly in bed.
But today! The sun’s out and our boulevard’s trees have finally popped, like slow green fireworks. Yesterday I finished a writeup about my current routine, but there were too many words for this newsletter so I’ve posted it on my website here. (There are still too many words, but maybe if you click through later in the week I’ll have added some photos too).
I want to call particular attention to my afternoons – which I’ve never quite been able to figure out even after eight years of working from home. The gist is this: I’m able to successfully block off time for morning work, but trying to do the same for my afternoons sends me into a guilt-procrastination spiral. So:
