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This week, my son is off school for holidays (by the way – do school holidays last longer than they ever did when we were in school??) so I decided to have a not-working week so I could spend some time with him.

For a self-employed writer, a not-working week is just a week when there is no schedule. It doesn’t mean no writing occurs! It just means if I didn’t hit 2000 words a day, I didn’t need to concern myself overmuch. So I didn’t. There has been very little writing. I’ve done lots of background work on a new series, which is really exciting, and which I wouldn’t have had time for if I didn’t take this week ‘off’.

But a strange thing happened when I allowed myself this time to relax. I got sick.

I already have chronic fatigue, depression and carpal tunnel syndrome. No sympathy required. Life usually just goes on around them.

But when I allowed myself some downtime, they came and bit at me with a vengeance.

So, I’m wondering whether it even makes sense for me to allow myself down time – maybe when I do, all I accomplish is to let my body remember all its various ills??

I would have thought that giving my body time to rest and recuperate from the (admittedly, not very punishing) schedule I keep that it would reward me with warm and fuzzies, let me clear my head and my psyche, and be ready and rarin’ to go the following Monday.

As it is, I’ll be going into Monday with some trepidation – and a little mommy-guilt for spending very little time with my son, who was totally devastated to have to spend days at a time gaming on the computer. Totally. Devastated. We DID get in a visit to the local Lazer Tag Centre with one of his mates, a movie and we did the grocery shopping together (always a fun day out). But in between that, I spent most of my time asleep – hardly winning the mother-and-son bonding game.

Strangely enough, I’m looking forward to the resumption of normality come Monday. I’m forcing myself NOT to return to a writing schedule until then – I booked a holiday, dammit, and I’m going to have one!!

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