Sunday is a big day for pastors. As some joke, it's the only day we work. So if preachers aren't tired at the end of Sunday, somebody's not getting their money's worth.
Sunday night, I was weary. Getting ready for bed, I mentally reviewed the day.
"That was a lousy prayer you said."
"You handled that situation OK."
"But ___ was awful."
"That mess of papers. Are you ever going to clear your desk?"
Socrates says the unexamined life isn't worth living. True, but I don't recommend self-examination right before bed.
This morning, none of these problems seem quite so bad.
A good night sleep? It's a good, cheap psychologist.