One of those days…
It’s been one of those days.
Sure the laundry is done, a bit of shopping for the week, and even a trip to Staples for new winter term school supplies for my daughter, but the real stuff, the substantive stuff, the chapter that should have been completed 10 days ago remains … well, definitely undone.
So if I was going to blow off the things that needed doing, I would have hoped to have at least spent my time say … at the gym going another bunch of rounds at hyperspeed or swimming at the Y or reading something other than books about 18th Century gender politics, but I didn’t even waste it doing that.
It was time spent in a drift to nowhere: bland, blah, nothing much and before I knew it the big clock outside tolled 4:00 PM.
At that point–well, I did manage half a page on the pesky chapter–but otherwise gave up on it all and figured the best thing to do was make a nice dinner for everyone (linguine with garlic, oil & calamata olives finished with fresh parmesan, plus a romaine lettuce salad).
The family fed. Daughter back to homework and husband happily digging into a bowl of ice cream, I’ve given myself permission to drift.
And really, that was all I needed. A bit of acknowledgement. A moment to say–hey, you’re a grown-up, you work your butt off, you can take the time to do nothing if that’s what you really need.
Now that I’ve given myself that gift, I feel myself easing up a bit; not quite so steamed for not hitting my word output, nor feeling guilty for taking a peek at my Facebook page.
Given that my permission stamp was only made at around 7:00, I don’t really have much time left … but at least I have Downton Abbey to look forward to.
I’m glad you were gentle enough with yourself to give yourself permission to do nothing. Women, we are so hard on ourselves so much of the time. Enjoy Downton tonight!
Thanks so much!!!
Good for you for giving yourself a day off of the hard work of plowing at least ONE of your many fields. It always makes me feel better when I hear other women doing this — why do we feel SO guilty? Sigh. Much love from down South.
Thanks, Lisa. It’s the guilt thing that is so ridiculous! It’s not as if we’ve been sloths neglecting the children, the house or the other myriad responsibilities!
I’ve got to work out that one!!
BTW, my 12 year old son just came and asked me to read to him. There goes my two hours of word bucket-filling tonight. I don’t think I will regret this, however… 🙂
No you won’t because that 12 year old is on the cusp of something amazing. I had the same feeling with Izzi roaming the aisles of Staples… Will this be the last time I’m along for this ride?