I finally have some down-time and decide to just stay home. All day. Hunker down in the house. Exchange flannel pajama pants for sweat pants. Pull my hair back. Ignore make-up. Run a load of laundry (overly full) and a load of dishes (under full). Watch the first half of the movie Brubaker that I missed the last time it was on the Independent Film Channel and act surprised every time the f-word flies out of the actors' mouths (though I've seen the movie several times already). Eat leftovers and sip already-opened wine, so even my meal-planning is on vacation today. Go through the last of the September magazines that are hidden under the October ones I haven't read yet. Read through some Christmas books.
It is this last activity that trips me up just a bit. I am not going to have time to read through all of the holiday texts, so I opt for some of the more obvious ones: two childhood versions of T'was the Night Before Christmas, Mr. Willoughby's Christmas Tree, a couple of children's picture books, a kids' chapter book The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, and a young adult novel called On Christmas Eve.
It is this final selection that throws everything off kilter. Flipping through the pages I am certain I've never read the book before. But about an hour in, I realize that I have read it before, and it's driving me crazy because I cannot for the life of me remember how it ends. I invest another two hours into the book, reaching the unsatisfactory ending, kicking myself for reading it a second time. Or, perhaps it is the third time. Or the fourth. It is truly one forgettable tale.
I return the Christmas books to the rightful shelf, the children's book shelf, that I keep in the den. Part of me is frustrated that I spend hours of time re-reading a mediocre book. Part of me figures I wasn't going to do anything strenuous on my first non-committed day in months, so I haven't really wasted any time that I hadn't intended on wasting in the first place today.
In a way, this re-read forced me to relax and sit still for a change. This is all so very unlike me.
Hours later my eldest stops by for a visit. I am in complete relaxation mode. He asks me if I'm tired, because, honestly, my children rarely see me sitting still completely unoccupied. I am a little tired, but it's the tired that comes with being almost bored rather than being so busy that I've run myself into the wall.
Next up for me is an awful lot of computer work. I have to start working on my thesis, and taking much more than a 24-hour break in my routine is probably a really bad idea. It is nice, though, to take this day to just do nothing. I wish you all a chance to give yourselves a Do Nothing Day. Make it a resolution. Make 2014 a year of random do-nothing days. I know I will ... after I finish my classes ... and my thesis ... and teaching for the year ... and getting college boy where he needs to be ... and attending college lacrosse games ... and shoveling my way through snow storms ...
Okay, okay. But I'm working on it. I'm at least trying to relax. I've made it almost an entire day. For me, that alone is a major accomplishment. If I can read the same book twice (a feat I've tackled several times before), then I can tackle being in relaxation mode twice (or more), as well.
Resolution for 2014: Make time to relax. (I'll let you know how it goes.)