When you're brain-weary ...

What do you do when you're brain-weary? You know the feeling: you're sleeping enough at night; your daily workouts, if you have them at all, aren't enough to wear you out; still, because of the mental work you're trying to do, you feel exhausted, and it isn't even bedtime yet.

I realized I must have hit that brain-weary, unable-to-think-anymore level recently when I found myself watching a TV documentary about the development of kittens. Not that kittens aren't fascinating, but I had a mound of work stacked up, just waiting for me to get to it, and I was watching kittens.


Somewhere between the four-week-old silver tabbies and the seven-week pure-bred Bengals, I got the hint. I could almost hear the TV whispering to me: Susan, your brain has done enough work for the day. You're done. Give up and enjoy the kittens. Feeling guilty about the work that still needed to be done, I kept trying to push myself to get busy again, but when the brain has gone on strike, well, it's kittens for me.

One of our sons, a mildly crazy entrepreneur who will one day be worth multiple millions, simply because he won't take no for an answer, has hit brain-weary regularly of late. When he just about lost it at work one day, his staff suggested he visit his doctor, just to be sure he's okay. The doctor's prescription: an evening of The Simpsons or Laverne and Shirley reruns. He said, "Give your brain a rest. Do something mindless for a while." Yes, The Simpsons or the L&S reruns may be adequately mindless, and maybe even fun, but the kittens are definitely cuter.

Besides, I love cats, but having recently lost the brother-sister pair we had for 14 and 16 years (the calico is my friend, Koi), and not yet feeling ready to watch real cats play in my home again, I get my kitten-fix from a TV documentary. For someone not yet prepared to bring another kitten home, watching them on TV is clearly safer than visiting the local animal shelter, just for a kitten fix.


So what do you do when you're brain-weary? And do you need a doctor's prescription to keep you from feeling guilty when you settle down to let the brain wander aimlessly for a while? I'd love to hear your answers.