This past weekend, I had one simple, glorious, all-encompassing goal: to do absolutely nothing. I even made a solemn vow to myself. The plan? Become a blissful couch potato, soak in the rare luxury of boredom, and maybe, just maybe, find enlightenment in the folds of my blanket.

But let me tell you—failing to do nothing is exhausting. And yes, I’m paying the price for it now, typing this with bleary eyes, sipping a coffee that feels more like an apology to my frazzled nerves.

It started out innocent enough. Saturday morning rolled in with its usual chirpiness (those birds, why are they always so smug?). I leisurely sipped my coffee, gazing into the nothingness that was supposed to be my weekend. Then, I heard it. That whisper. You know the one—the “I should just take care of this one little thing” voice. Rookie mistake. I opened one email. ONE. Suddenly, I was knee-deep in chores, tasks, and impulsive to-dos that made me question if my ‘nothing’ plan had been a mere fantasy all along.

Next thing I knew, I was buying cookies. Why? I don’t even know. I wasn’t hungry. I don’t even like cookies that much. But somehow, buying cookies felt like the productive antidote to my deep-seated need to ‘do nothing.’ (Is this a sign of a bigger problem? Let’s save that for another session, shall we?)

By Sunday, the domino effect of doing something instead of nothing was in full swing. Laundry was done. Closets were semi-organized. Calls were made. I even considered alphabetizing my spice rack—pure madness.

Now, here I sit, deep into Tuesday-utterly spent. I’ve been unable to catch up on nothingness. It turns out, keeping promises to yourself is more important than we think. Because when you ignore that promise to do nothing, you’re not just breaking a deal—you’re breaking your own spirit.

So here’s my takeaway: doing nothing is an art form, one that requires commitment and discipline. And next weekend? I swear, I’m going to nail it. Until then, I’ll be catching up on sleep like it’s a deadline I missed—because I did. And the price of productivity is far too steep when rest is what you needed all along.

Lesson learned: sometimes, the hardest thing to do is nothing.