The A La Carte

Today started at an ungodly hour; the kind that should only belong to insomniacs, night-shift bakers, (and my boyfriend.) I was up before the sun, driving someone to the airport so she could get to her mother-in-law, who recently dealt with a medical issue. By the time most people were hitting snooze, I’d already logged my good-deed-for-the-day, wrangled luggage, and made it back home, well not my home, but a home.

Now I’m back at her house for the weekend with three dogs and a cat as my co-workers. Their qualifications? Questionable. They’re loud when my dog notices there is a cat in the house, they do the inside outside tango constantly, and believe “helping” means stepping directly on the keyboard, mostly my dog. But when it comes to naps? All four of them are absolute professionals.

And honestly, with the gray skies, steady drizzle, and a chorus of snoring pups on the couch beside me, the idea of working feels almost unnatural. My brain keeps whispering, wouldn’t it be smarter to nap?

Here’s the truth: burnout doesn’t disappear just because the laundry pile or messy desk is out of sight. It follows you, like a bad omen. And the only thing that quiets it is rest. The kind of rest you don’t schedule as a reward, but take because it’s needed.

So maybe the real productivity this weekend looks less like a finished to-do list and more like slow mornings, dog walks in the drizzle, and giving myself permission to nap at the same time the cat does (a.k.a. always).

Because sometimes the best way to get back to work is to stop working for a while. Who knew burnout recovery looks a lot like curling up with a pack of dogs and calling it a strategy session?

xo,
Ande