I get these days where the mood to “do” is absent. Sometimes I can get past it with a cup of coffee, a half-hour of calisthenics, maybe a hours long drive. In all instances, just waiting for the mood shift to be kick started into productivity. And most the time it works well. But then there are those days where “doing” just ain’t gonna happen. Coffee, drive, walk, sulk, gnash teeth, nothing. On those special occasions, I set for myself minimums.

So what are these minimums? I earnestly doubt I’m the one that invented the concept. I’m nigh positive I read about it in some long forgotten psych article or book. But the practice feels sound. On those days where nothing is done, I bargain with myself what I have to do. Nonnegotiables are shower, floss, brush them pearlies, get the eff out of bed. Thems the minimums.

Then negotiate with my mood from there. We gonna eat? No? We need calories, gotta have sumpn’. We gonna exercise? No? Hunkering down is just gonna prolong this funk, you don’t have to bleed over it but you gotsta move. We gonna clean house? No? Alright, I’ll give you that. Maybe later. How about art and write? No? I’m gonna equate this chore to exercise and hygiene, if you abandon it now you wont be able to live with yourself later. Keep it simple pencil to paper and a couple of lines about how everything is awful. Then I promise, the rest the day is yours to slack off as you please.

It’s a hard conversations sometimes And I never quite get it perfect, but I do find that, as I’m climbing into bed that night, the guilt is assuaged and a modecrum of pride that, besides is all, I tried. That means something. It really does.

Todays been one of those days. No studying, no exercise, no projects, cleaning, or chores. As far as days go, its been a softy. That said, I’m writing here. I’m fed, showered, and walked. For the last hour of the day, I’ll mindlessly doodle. Then end the day teeth bushed and flossed and rolling into a made bed.

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