I looked down at my To-Do list. Done.

Everything was crossed off. There wasn’t a single chore or task that I had left to do. I had accomplished everything that needed to be done.

I lifted my hands in a silent victory. It felt so good to be done, to be free of the burden of a long list of things to do.

I grabbed my afternoon coffee. The sweet French Vanilla cream overwhelmed my senses as waves of relaxation rolled over me. I was done everything.

I put the mug down, and my mind tossed out a haunting thought.

Now what?

I had never been done everything before. There had always been something else to do, something that wasn’t done the day before or something new that got tacked onto the bottom. My head titled on its own, as if my entire being was perplexed by this newfound emptiness.

Surely there was something I had forgotten, right?

I glanced around the house. The kids’ toys were away. Dishes done. Bills were paid. Garbage out. I slumped into my chair, taking another sip of coffee. There was nothing left for me to do.

What was I going to do now?



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