There's a kind of lassitude that happens when you've put in a full complement of hours doing something you love, pacing yourself so that at the end of the day you're comfortably tired and when you look back at how much you accomplished, a certain pleasure in it all. My garden never got its autumn cleaning, for various reasons, and now I have to do that and the spring stuff as well. I've learned not to look beyond where I am,
or toward where I will be in a week, because that way lies mental overload. One of the few things my Dad taught me that was positive, was never look too far ahead, or you end up doing your work twice. So instead I look at where Ive been, and how much got done.