Sometimes, I fear tomorrow. Not because I fear the dawn or what is to come, but because I worry that I have not done enough with today, and that the feeling will drag into tomorrow, as well. I am exhausted and I want to sleep, yet I have lain awake (just barely) in my bed for over half an hour already. I accomplished much today, both physically and mentally, and I had a wonderful time with my mom, sharing most of the day with her, loving one another well and clearly. But today is Saturday, and tomorrow is Sunday. I have so little time during the weekdays right now, that I feel a compulsion to make each weekend fully “worth it”. Today was great, and yet I worry that Monday will arrive, and I will wish I had done something more over the weekend. To be fair, though, I typically wish that I had had more sleep over the weekend, more so than wishing I’d done anything else. How odd… perhaps it is best, then, that I sleep now.