Long weekends actually aren't my favorite. I've worked very hard at a successful schedule (or maybe it just sort of happened). I had free time. I had activities to occupy free time (library-computer, dvd, and/or shopping, which lives somewhere in both the enjoyment and the frustrating category). I had outings (support groups, excersize classes/excersize). And work to wake me up five out of seven mornings. A four day weekend means that I have to wake myself up and get myself out of bed without the incentive of work for twice the usual number of days.
But I did it, or I wouldn't be writing here at the library: I'd be in bed.
I visited my family for the fourth of July. 1) because it means alot to them. 2.) because on holidays I don't call friends because I think they are busy celebrating, but I can get pretty depressed by myself. 3.) because I thought it would be good for me. Same as driving is good for me. Tell the anxiety and depression, you can change this much of my activities, but enough is enough.
Which kind of works. However, days when I drive out to visit my family tend to be followed directly by extra depressed days. Even when the days went well. Maybe its a stress thing. P.S. family, please don't be insulted if you read this. My getting stressed doesn't have to mean that you did something wrong. I'm quite good at getting stressed all by myself.
Now, I'm hungry. 17 minutes until I give up and eat supper at home. 'Till then I can keep hoping to eat with a friend. Oh, my cell phone company says I have 18 minutes.
Today, I did some cleaning, which led to me feeling better. Appearently there is some emotional benefit to making your kitchen stop smelling from spoiled food. But then someone called before I washed the last pan, and I said that they weren't interupting, because I wanted to talk to them. So now there are a few remaining dishes. And the floor looks really bad, just the way I like it if I'm going to sweep it.