What have you done with your day?

If you’re like me, you slept off and on until nearly noon, finally got up, tuned Pandora to the Skrillex station, got some housework done, then sat down to track the final moments of the Iceland-England Euro2016 match. (Iceland won, 2-1, in what is being considered a stunning upset. Next up is France, the host country, in the quarters. For various reasons, I claim allegiance to Iceland in the Euros. I am a happy camper.)

It’s very likely that you’ve accomplished more with your day, and almost certainly been more productive for bigger things than what I usually do with my day. The measure of a great day for me is usually something along the lines of “didn’t let anything trigger a panic attack or cause me to go into my head.” Yours is more likely to be “closed the deal I’ve been working on for months” or “finished that project that I’ve had on my desk since January” or even “made it through that meeting without causing bloodshed.”

And today, at least for today, that’s okay.

Usually I’m constantly comparing my life to everyone else’s because I have an inflated view of what I’m actually capable of. A psychologist appointed by the federal government agreed with my usual caretakers that I’m incapable of handling the day-to-day stresses of a job right now. Will that change in the future? That remains to be seen, but that’s the end goal – getting back to work and resembling something more along the lines of what would be regarded as a normal life.

But for today, for some reason, I’m perfectly okay with my somewhat diminished list of accomplishments. I’ve read a section in the self-help book I’m currently working on, I’ve done my brain games (all three excellent scores today, incidentally) and done twice the amount of Spanish that Duolingo requires for a day’s worth of learning, and I’m writing this blog post. Today, for whatever reason, that’s okay.

Today, at least for today, I see that every day is a blank page.

Some people have an amazing kit full of artist’s tools and a vast amount of talent with which to fill their page every day. Others might not have such an impressive kit or as much talent, and so their page may not be as worthy of hanging on the wall to show others. Some of us are kind of lucky that we’ve still got most of a set of broken crayons left and the ability to doodle. And that’s okay.

The point is that each of us have the same blank page when we wake up, and the same opportunity to fill that page with whatever we can. Should we be comparing our daily works with one another? It happens, but it’s not really fair for me to put myself up against someone with a better kit and more talent and lament that my work isn’t as good as theirs. It’s an unrealistic expectation and it’s one that I have most of the time.

Today, though, I’m a realist. I know that my day won’t be as productive or as exciting as yours will be. And that’s okay. I’m doing the best I can with what I have. It’s not really that much to compare with, but it’s mine.

And today, for whatever reason, that’s perfectly okay.

Today, I’m okay. And if that’s the best I got, well … that’s okay too.