By most measures, this has been a productive summer thus far. Two articles have been accepted, one by a pretty big journal in my field; the collection is nearing completion, at least submission of the complete draft for readers; I've been writing at a pretty steady rate on these projects, and have been thinking about the next projects.
In the meantime, I'm not behind on my teaching prep for the fall, as I slowly pace through some news texts I'm teaching, and helping an independent study student take on a big new project. And the service work for next year isn't really an issue at the moment. The point is, things are going fine.
And yet, even on a Saturday, in the middle of the summer, when my work has been going fine, as the rest of the house naps, I am anxious about not working. Oh, I am good at procrastinating, just like everyone else, but I have to be procrastinating from something, as opposed to actually relaxing. This, for me, is the downside of having a career where we may not be at work all the time, but we are always working. We, or I, at least, can't stop working.