I should be ... (insert action word here)

Three hours of work this week. That's all I've been assigned so far... and I'm lost. I'd been putting in 20-25 hours a week recently (I won't lie - the money is nice), when my original deal with my neighbor/owner of the co., was to work about 10-12. After reminding the office manager three weeks ago of this (I guess the communication broke down between the two), I'm lucky to see five to eight hours. So now I find myself obsessively checking my work folders and email, just hoping to find something there. Is she punishing me for taking a step back? Why do I care, anyway?

There are so many other things I could be doing.

For instance: sleeping, exercising, de-cluttering, gardening, painting, reading, visiting friends, shopping, reading blogs, walking the dog; the list could go on.

Yet I'm drawn to this little square in my office cubby. Looking for validation that I can contribute to my family with something other than cleaned dishes or mopped floors. It's been easier to sit here working than to get busy living. That's going to change. I don't want my life to be filled with woulda/coulda/shoulda.