I spent Saturday in bed. Really, the whole day. In bed. I watched episodes of Suits until my eyes bled, and texted my friends about how useless I am.
Can you imagine? Laying in bed all day while your husband cooked breakfast lunch and dinner for the kids? At least I hope he did. I didn’t.
I wasn’t sick. I hadn’t yet thrown my back out. For all I know, that may have been why my back went out to begin with.
I just didn’t feel like doing anything. Except watching Suits, an outdated, starless series, each episode cut from the identical fabricated pattern.
Conflict. Impossible situations. And then an idea that gets them all out of it except the bad guy outsmarts them, and just when everything is lost, someone (usually the same lawyer who isn’t really a lawyer because he never went to law school but is pretending he went to Harvard and somehow knows all the laws there are by heart because he has a photographic memory), pulls a rabbit out of a hat. It’s really a Dan Brown lesson in creating story.
That’s the other thing I did this weekend, listened to Dan Brown’s Masterclass. I love him. He breaks story telling down into such easy steps, made me think even I could do it, until I sat down all day yesterday with my aching back and strangled the page with the blood curdling fury of a Dan Brown villain.
Anyway, the point is, I did nothing and I spent the entire time saying, “I should enjoy myself. If I’m not going to do anything, the least I could do is enjoy it.”
What’s the point of doing nothing AND badgering yourself the whole time? What could be more stupid?
So I tried to love myself but I really didn’t do it right I don’t think, which is pretty amusing because writing about worth is my specialty.
But like Alexander and The Terrible No Good Very Bad Day said, “Some days are like that.”