I suppose it is not a good thing when I get used to a level of activity that makes me wonder if three at-home days in two weeks means I am moving towards the doldrums.
There is something about being back in Dublin after Christmas that is different. Probably a combination of lots of things, I find myself not wanting to push too hard in any direction. That's not to say that I am missing deadlines or avoiding exerting any effort. I just don't feel it necessary to push myself at the moment while working to develop a sane and sustainable existence. Trying to organize my apartment, establish routines for cooking and cleaning, sleep for at least eight hours (unless I have a reason to do otherwise), complete my reading for classes a few days before class so I have time for reflection or additional research...
It seems so simple and harmless, even helpful, to make space and time in my life to live in my flat. I suppose a history of depression has something to do with a critical analysis of slowing down or taking a break. And that's healthy to some extent. I won't look too closely, though, because that is definitely crazy-making behavior. For now, this afternoon, I feel good about staying home, doing laundry, making lunch, and researching online.
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