I’ve published something to this blog every single day for the last two-plus years. On many of those days, as well as posting, I’ve written and created. On others, I’ve crashed and burned. During the latter, it’s felt like an achievement just to ship something into the world.
On Saturdays, Sundays, on Christmas Day, on my Birthday, I get up and I do my thing. Such constant pressure and consistent attempts to drive forward inevitably cause problems. I get tired. I consider quitting. I wish I hadn’t committed. Then the next day comes and I do it again.
If I had days off, I’m sure the quality of the work I do would be less erratic. But that’s not how I’m wired. I cannot dip in and out, doing two or three or four days a week. It doesn’t work for me. It’s all-in, everyday, or nothing. Which means that I must make peace with the fact that, if I refuse to take days off, there will be off-days.