The day should have an ending you are allowed to recognize.

Work without an edge expands to fill whatever it is given. When nothing marks the finish, the evening gets spent half on duty, and rest is taken guiltily rather than simply taken. Permission is the missing ingredient more often than time is, because there is always something further that could be done and no natural point at which enough has occurred.

Give the day a small closing gesture you can trust: the laptop shut away, a walk round the block, a line about where you pick up tomorrow. The point is not the ritual. It is having somewhere to stand when you decide the day is over.