Now What?

Tags

anxiety, executive dysfunction, Friday, growth, life, mental health, office life, productivity, quiet, rest, slow, work life, writing

What do you do when you’re at work and you’re all caught up?
Is this, like, a thing people actually experience?

I rarely have these moments at work. It seems like there is always something to do, but today, well, today is different. I finished all my work yesterday afternoon and on Fridays there isn’t much (if any) new work generated for me to do. So here I am, fully caught up, staring into the void like, “Okay, now what?”

Part of me feels like I should enjoy this rare silence, kinda like I’ve somehow unlocked a bonus level in the workweek. But another part of me is wandering around in circles wondering if I’ve forgotten something important. That’s the fun of the combo of executive dysfunction and chronic responsibility: even when you’re done, your brain whispers, “Are you though? Are you really?”

I’ve checked my email three times.
Refilled my water.
Straightened my desk.
And I’m still just here. Waiting for something to land on my plate so I can stop feeling like I’m doing something wrong by not being busy.

Why are we like this? Why does rest feel suspicious?

Surely it’s just this simple: sometimes you’re caught up. Sometimes you get an easy Friday. Sometimes the universe throws you a tiny slice of peace and says, “Sit down. Breathe.” I think I’ll listen today.

Monday will be back soon enough, so I will do my best to enjoy the slow, quiet day.

When Rest Feels Like Failure

Tags

executive dysfunction, grace, Healing, human experience, kindness, mental health, neurodivergent, productivity, Reflection, reframing, rest, self-acceptance, self-compassion

I, personally, don’t like the word lazy. It feels heavy and judgmental. I suffer from executive dysfunction. That means that sometimes, even when I desperately want to, I simply cannot. My brain says “get up and go,” but my body just doesn’t follow. It’s like being trapped behind invisible glass, watching life move while I stand still.

As a child, I was often called lazy, and maybe sometimes I was. But when I finally got diagnosed, a lot of things clicked into place. It wasn’t about a lack of willpower or caring, it was about my brain working differently. I can spend an entire day wanting to clean the kitchen, pay bills, start laundry, or even just get dressed… and yet, nothing happens. Then comes the guilt spiral: feeling bad for not doing, which makes it even harder to do.

People like to say “just push through it,” but it’s not that simple. For me, it’s a cycle of needing rest, feeling guilty for resting, and then burning out because I never gave myself real permission to slow down.

So when I think about “lazy days,” I try to reframe them. Sometimes they’re not lazy at all — they’re necessary. They’re recovery days. They’re my brain’s way of saying “I need a minute.” And the truth is, rest is productive. Without it, everything else falls apart.

I’m learning to give myself more grace. To celebrate the small wins. Needing rest doesn’t make me lazy, it simply makes me human.