This isn’t a blog post.

It’s 10pm. I’m brain dead and still haven’t written my blog post. Why? Because at the café this morning while I was supposed to be writing as Miguel slept soundly in his stroller, I ran into a neighborhood friend and chatted the morning away.


Then later in the afternoon, during my “backup blog time,” I met another friend for a glass (or 2) of wine. It was a great day. And now I feel guilty for failing at my goal. And for what?


These days we’re wound up so tight. We multitask, we plan, we checklist, we go go go, professionally, academically, socially. We fill our time with endless to dos.


Here I am on maternity leave, one of the only true “vacations” left in life. And instead of just letting myself do nothing but eat bon bons while taking care of my baby and myself, I’m boxing out my time, planning the next post, and setting a schedule. I’m happy I’m doing this because it’s fulfilling for me, but it’s okay to miss a day.


So instead of feeling like I failed today, I’m choosing to feel fulfilled. I got to reconnect with someone I haven’t seen in a while. I got to relax, unwind, and enjoy the company of people I care about. I successfully failed at not getting it all done.


And now it’s 10:15, and I’m going to bed.

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