Doing Nothing

Saturday morning and the rain is falling outside. Proper grey and miserable. Still, at least it’s not sweltering. I don’t know if it’s the weather, but I want to do sod all today.

It annoys me when I wake up like that. Being the weekend, I like to get out and do things. But not today. Today, I want to sit staring into space. What’s wrong with that?

Guilt. That’s what it is. I’m stuck at my desk all week. By the weekend it feels like I should do something. Because… I dunno. It feels like I should. The guilt thing. “It’s the weekend, go and live a bit…”

The problem with that is, I’m ageing and like sitting still. Not all the time. Now and then. Running thought experiments. Stuff like that. I’m not being idle. Resting and taking it easy is alright sometimes. And get this: our brains insist on it.

I’m not going to get all woo-woo. But Prefrontal Cortex Fatigue is real. Grafting all week, thinking, deciding and all that? Emotion control, staying focused, those kinds of things. They drain our cognitive resources.

The old noggin goes: “That’s enough of that. Chill for a bit.” So it’s not being lazy. It’s a response to all the crap during the working week.

I never sleep well. That’s another thing. Meaning passive rest is what my brain orders. Whether I like it or not.

Now, back in the day, I’d get up at 4am and go running. Because it felt like a time of day I could claim as my own.

These days, I open my eyes at 4am. Thinking: “I’ll sleep soon, I hope”. By the time 6am arrives, I wake up feeling shit and ready for doing as little as possible.

Still, I wake up. That’s always a win. I’m off to refold my socks or something. Before I have a nap.