Saturday afternoon I felt sure there was something I should be doing. I had vacuumed the den, thrown in a load of laundry, written Morning Pages, called my mother and brother, and gone for a run. I stood in the living room thinking I needed to be doing something, feeling myself spiraling into the beginning of becoming frantic.

Hey, wait a minute, I said.

Considering things a moment, I realized I was bored and felt guilty and lost because of it. I was inclined to go to the computer or phone and check news and email, but the news is bad and email would leave me feeling obligated to reply. I pushed against the habit of running from boredom.

But what then to do?

There were certainly things to do. Write a note to a friend, call another, finish reading my book, write a blog post, clean the bathroom. Those flashed in my mind one after another and then together, the spiral still spinning up inside me.

On the couch my cat yawned, stretched out a paw, flexed her claws, rolled into a tighter ball, and went back to sleep.

I joined her.

An hour and a half later I woke feeling rested for the first time in weeks. I got up, washed my hands, put on music, and began making eggplant parmesan for dinner. No guilt, no spiraling, no anxiety.

Earlier in the day when I felt there was something I needed to do, I was right. There was something. But rather than being "productive," I needed to rest and give myself a break.

I'll have to remind myself of that often over the next few weeks and months. Maybe you need that reminder too.

Times are tough. Be kind to yourself and get some rest.