February 20th, 2022
I spent half of today thinking it was Monday.
Not just thinking it. Living it as though it was Monday. My day off.
And that would have been fine, had today not actually been Sunday.
Now you’re probably thinking, “Is there anything so dumb that this man won’t write something about it?” and I’ll stop you right there and confirm that, no, there is nothing so dumb that I won’t write something about it.
Because something interesting did come out of it.
I woke up believing today was Monday. I do not work on Mondays. So I was more than willing to get up at a decent time and run a ton of errands, like I do on Mondays, the day I do not work.
Not for one moment today did I stress out over the fact that I worked at 2 pm, because at no point during my errand-running did I believe I worked at 2 pm.
And I realized I did today what I’ve been trying to do with my anxiety and stress my entire life, that no amount of breathing or relaxation techniques have been able to produce.
It was objectively a Sunday. But I was subjectively living on a Monday. And that is how I always want my life to feel.
Normally, on a day where anything is expected out of me, I immediately feel so filled with anxiety that it’s hard to even find the key and turn on. By removing those expectations, I was able to do all the things I do on my day off, and then do things expected of me.
It was wild, and something I hope to be able to reproduce without having to burn all of my clocks and calenders.
Though I can’t help thinking that at some point in my morning drive, I hit 88 miles per hour and today really had started out as a Monday.