During my drive home from work today (which is now, blessedly, three minutes long - five if I hit a light or two), I pondered what my exercise regimen would be today. I exercised 19 days during June and, although I'm rather proud of myself about that, I'd like to do even better in July. Once I got home, I decided that tonight I'd be best served with an old school workout on the treadmill so I suited up and hit the "exercise room." (A loose term...it could just as easily be called the "junk-waiting-for-the-garage-sale-that-will-never-come room.")
My plans were all for naught, however, because the treadmill was covered in some of that JWFTGSTWNC. We had overnight guests, which necessitated the temporary rearranging of the room. In the back of my mind, my "you should" voice pointed out that there were a couple of loads of laundry to be folded, but I decided to lie on the couch and read my book. Pretty quickly I found myself getting sleepy. That voice started to tell me that I "shouldn't" be sleepy but my body insisted that sleep was the order of the day.
It was that funny half-sleep you end up in when your son is playing XBox360 in the same room and your daughter is wondering around until she decides sleep sounds lovely and crashes in the oversized armchair. I barely squinted at my husband with one eye when he came home and muttered to him that it would be great if he'd wake me up in time to meet my friends for dinner. Then I continued with my half-dozing while he and my son played their first game of Risk (the old-fashioned board game, not an electronic version).
I'm about to leave for my girlfriends' dinner. Not only do I feel quite rested, but I also feel as if I accomplished something significant by ignoring my "should" voice for just an hour or two.
I can't ignore it forever, though. I really should get that laundry folded.