I was describing today to my mother, and said I had a relaxing day off.
And then I thought about what I did.
I got rid of a huge backlog of laundry from when our basement was torn apart and it was difficult to do any.
I dragged the treadmill out from its hiding place where we had to stick it for the Christmas party, set it up, and did my first run in, well, what, four weeks? Six?
I took down all the ornaments, garland, and lights, boxed it all up, then took down the 8.5-foot tree, dragged it outside, and ditched it in the woods.
Finally, I cleared off both cars, shoveled both driveways, and the porch/steps/sidewalks.
Somehow, this was mentally equated with "relaxing" to me. I personally blame the run. Maybe there's a lesson there.