cliff and fog

One week since we arrived in Colorado (granted, our midnight arrival was probably technically Tuesday).

I’ve never seen it so rainy here, so dark. The surrounding landscape is hidden completely. Even Eagle Cliff has a cloud like a sheet partially draped over its top. And I’m trapped in it, the dampness in my lungs un-comforting to the dryness in my throat, and the aches elsewhere. I’m definitely sick. I spent the morning in my room before venturing to the Pondo for an early lunch (they had egg drop soup, but it had left-over peas in it from the night before) and then back home again exhausted from an hour out. I was able to get some e-mail done, but then let the sleep take me for two hours before five.

And now I’m feeling like I often feel when I’m on sick day: lazy. Like I should have gotten more done. Frustrated and guilty that daylight is almost ready to drop away, but my task list isn’t shorter.

I can convince myself that that this was an opportune time to have to take a break. And it was—I finally completed my full project leaders and coaches orientation late last night, and many of my initial major tasks for launching things seem to be complete. But to work in this kind of self-talk is to miss the point; staying within the confines of the assumption that if I am productive, I am valuable.