Yesterday, still full of cold and sniffling my way around, I cancelled my gym plans (and am regretting it, but I had to accept that I was too ill to train) and had an evening at home (rare) and to myself (even rarer still).
This is great I started off thinking to myself. But when I got home, for the first time in a few days and remembered the pile of ironing, the mountain of presents which need wrapping, cards which need writing and projects which need finishing, I was almost ready to hibernate. Or cry. Or both.
Whilst I've been trying to make a conscious effort to take less on, I'm still finding I'm probably trying to do too much. I tend to say yes, assume I'll fit it all in and then forgo things like sleep / stuff I actually want to do in order to meet all of the deadlines. And, usually, that's OK. But it's worse when you're feeling a little under the weather and it's not clear where to start.
I find that making a list, before I start anything, can really help me. So, I popped the kettle on, found a pen and sat down to write my plan of action. Small tasks, some of which would only take a few minutes (change bedding, mix up mine pie pastry, etc) went on the lists along with harder ones (list clothes for sale, finish making a present for my sister) and I went through them one at a time.
Despite knowing that I wouldn't get them all crossed off (I didn't), it somehow made me feel calmer to know that I could do one thing at a time, avoid goldfishing (which is what my OH calls that thing I do when I'm flicking between a million things at once and never actually completing any of them), and feel a little sense of achievement when I crossed something off.
Sometimes, it's OK to take things slow. I just have to keep reminding myself of this.