Honey, I’m Home Energy

There’s a moment near the end of every work day when the work stops feeling meaningful and just becomes motion. I’m still typing, still talking, still checking boxes, but the spark’s gone. It’s muscle memory at that point, just trying to get to the part where I can stop.

After being “on” all day, I just want to collapse on the couch and disappear for a bit. I know deep down that’s the worst thing I can do.

That’s when I order takeout instead of cooking for my family. Or scroll through my phone instead of getting on the floor and playing with them. That’s when the day eats me alive instead of the other way around.

Sometimes I sit in my office or the car a couple minutes longer before opening the door. Not because I don’t want to be home, but because I know I need to shake off the day. To reset. To find a spark of energy so I can walk in like I actually mean it.

That energy makes me who I am. It’s what makes anyone the kind of person people want to be around. Their aura, their vibe, their presence, whatever you want to call it. You’ve seen it before. That friend who can work a room, who greets you with the same excitement whether it’s been a day or a year. They make you feel like you matter.

It’s like the old saying goes:

People rarely remember what you do, but they always remember how you make them feel.

And you know who needs that the most?

My family.

My wife and kids won’t remember all the things I’ve done (or didn’t do), but they’ll always remember the energy I bring into the house when I’ve been away.

That “HOOOOOOOONEY, I’M HOME!” energy.

It only takes two minutes, but it changes everything.

I heard Bear Grylls talk about this once. He said,

“Save your best for those you value the most: your wife and kids. Don’t be tired and grumpy with them, and be on your best form with others.”

That one stuck. Because I know how easy it is to give my best to clients, coworkers, or strangers and come home empty. So I’m trying to bring that “Honey, I’m home” energy back. Not fake hype, just aliveness.

A short, intentional moment that says: I’m here and you matter more than my exhaustion.

If I need inspiration, I think about Bandit from the kid's show Bluey. Exhausted but present. Goofy but grounded. Whether it’s fully received or not, he walks into the room with a resounding “It’s Dad!”

That’s the energy I’m choosing to bring home, even if it’s the last little bit I have to give.