What a gloriously busy, delicious, satiating long weekend I’ve just had. It was filled with sun-basking, bike-riding, hot-tubbing, wine-drinking, funny-story-telling, German-feasting, French-feasting, Easter-feasting, and one small but glorious nap. Man, am I happy, and full. And now, as it winds to an end, I stare at the piles of laundry, the dirty dishes, the empty fridge, and my never ending to-do list. Those three days of blissful busyness, the kind of aimless, joyful distraction we all crave in our structured day-to-day lives, is enough to make me revolt. No gym! No cleaning! No errands! No writing! No work! I want to grab a crusty baguette, a bottle of vino, and throw myself onto a grassy knoll. And I don’t want to get up until…