My guilt does a disappearing act

I used to suffer from guilt for the longest time. And by guilt, I mean the guilt of not doing enough, not being enough, not being productive, wasting time, and the likes. It was such a major part of my psyche that I suppose I have a few articles here on WIP about it already. (Yet, for logistical reasons, I was too lazy to dig them up and link here.)

But even though I've been taking a sabbatical from publishing for all of 2024 so far and focusing on something that isn't productive at all - a hobby of sorts that could turn into something productive - I haven't felt guilty at all.

Perhaps it's because at least I'm doing something.

But then again, I've spent all summer stretching out on my office couch, reading books, without feeling guilty about it.

So I don't know what you would call this. Maybe progress? Maybe the mentality that summer is nothing but a waiting period for autumn? Or me finally owning up to the fact that I am, after all, lazy?

RK out.