I woke up with four good hours in me, not four hours to waste, four hours to be me. How to Spend Your Good Hours (Now You Can Count Them)
On Tuesday, I woke up with only four hours of good energy in me. Not four hours of sitting on the couch and scrolling, four hours where I could hold a conversation, finish a task, or remember why I walked into the kitchen. After those hours pass and the fog rolls in, everything takes more effort.
I’ve been doing this math for a long time. Some days I get five hours. Some days I get two. On rare days, I get six or seven before my body sends the bill for what I spent. No one told me that counting my limits wouldn’t feel like freedom at first. At first, it felt like loss.
Then something shifts. When you can see your energy as a limited resource, not a bottomless account you should be able to tap into, you stop treating your body like it’s failing a test. You stop apologizing for being human. And you start making choices that fit the life you’re in, not the life you wish you had today.
The currency you cannot borrow
We tend to treat time as the only thing we manage. We fill calendars, stack appointments, and try to “find” more hours like they’re loose change in the couch. But time and energy are not the same. Pretending they are is how we schedule three things on a day that only holds two good hours.
Energy is honest in a way time isn’t. You can’t fake it for long. You can’t borrow tomorrow’s energy to finish today’s job. I’ve tried. Tomorrow collects interest.
Counting your good hours isn’t giving up. It’s telling the truth. And when you tell the truth, you can choose with care.
Three ways to view your energy budget
Start with subtraction, not addition
Don’t start the day by listing everything you hope to do. Start by naming what you must do, the basics that keep you steady. For me, that’s a shower, food in my stomach, and my meds. Those costs are there whether I track them or not.
What’s left after the basics is the real budget. That number might be small. It’s still real.
Know the difference between spending and investing
Some things cost energy and give nothing back. Others cost energy and return something that feeds you later.
A call with a friend might take an hour of good energy. It can also leave you feeling seen. It can bring laughter, warmth, and a softer landing in your day. An hour on social media can cost the same, but it often gives back anxiety and that thin, itchy feeling of missing out.
Start noticing what restores you, even a little. Start noticing what drains you and leaves you emptier.
Build in buffer hours
This is the hard part. If you have four good hours, don’t schedule four hours of tasks. Schedule two, maybe three.
Leave space for the late grocery delivery. Leave space for the medical call that runs long. Leave space for the day your body says, “Not four. Two.” That buffer isn’t wasted time. It’s breathing room. It’s how you stop living in a constant loop of falling short.
What this looks like in real life
Yesterday, I had three good hours of energy. Someone asked me to go to lunch, someone I truly like, at a place I enjoy. My old self would have said yes. Then I would have spent the morning worrying. I would have pushed through lunch on fumes, nodding and smiling while my mind lagged behind. Later, I would have collapsed, frustrated and resentful, not at them, but at my own body.
My new self looked at my three hours and the birthday call with my daughter at 2:00 pm. I said no to lunch. No “maybe next time.” No “I’m so sorry.” No long trail of apologies.
Just, “I’d love to, but I need to save my energy for something else today.”
The sky didn’t fall. The friendship didn’t end. I had a good call with my daughter because I had the strength for it. And I didn’t spend the evening soaking in guilt over my limits.
That’s the change. Not learning to do more with less. Learning to protect what you have, so you can spend it where your heart most wants it to go.
Permission
Here’s what I want you to hear: your good hours are enough. Whatever number you have today, they are enough.
You don’t need to apologize for protecting them. You don’t need to spend them proving your worth. You don’t need to hand them over to obligations dressed up as love.
Count your hours with honesty. Spend them with care. Rest without regret. That isn’t quitting. It’s a clear, steady kind of self-respect.
