My ‘day off’ is Monday. I put that in quotes because a day off in my world far from constitutes rest or relaxation. I’m certainly not complaining about my life of little stoppage, but rather embracing the truth. Yes sometimes a hamster metaphor suits me most appropriately, but I have to admit that my life on the endless squeaky wheel is a place of comfort and familiarity. I don’t think that I want to exit this ride. So I will happily suckle from my water drip and keep on spinning.
So when another Monday approached, I laid in bed Sunday night thinking of all the things I would do on my ‘day off’ that would keep me in shape for my wheel of endless movement-with-no-real-accomplishement. I would clean the yard and pool. Plant my fifty-somethingth herb garden that I will kill. Laundry. Play a learning game with Luke. Cook healthy food that I surely won’t eat. Exercise. Train a few people in my front yard. Go to the post office. Yoga. Write this blog.
I set the alarm for 4am…..FOR MY DAY OFF…..
4am came and other than my dog being so successful and straight up barking in my face so to feed him to get me up, I’m positive that my body would’ve help me hostage to my bed without even the privelage of shuffling to the toilet. I fed them and crawled back into bed. Back into bed? I don’t even know what that means. Back….into…..bed. That’s never an option nor a choice and if I had my own religion that would surely be against it. My legs weighed the same as the laundry pile. And both weren’t moving. Luke woke up and came running into the room having NEVER woken me up, confused and clearly worried. Once he saw that I was ok, and that he could crawl in with me, so began my day of glorious nothingness.
In bed cartoons went on for 1.37 hours. Have you ever turned on the television before starting your day. Like right from bed? And cartoons for that matter? As in not serious issues or even concepts for that matter. It’s fantastic. And it’s as though my day followed the same theme. Breakfast was cheddar bunnies and leftover cucumber salad. In bed. My clothing was a bikini that seemed so complicated to put on after so many hours of rest which confused my body that I had to put on only half of it, then wait til my caffeine kicked in to arrange the other half. Luke had to fend for himself since I was clearly not myself on this ‘day off’ and put on an Indian costume. With no shirt.
My list of ‘day off’ items loomed over me. But my motivation, or lack thereof, ripped it to shreds and threw it into the DAY OF NOTHING INFERNO. I decided to surrender as well. And so started the best R&R for me in years.
First on the list of ‘day of nothing’ was naturally to sit by my pool. I did actually exercise by dodging my head side to side and lifting a leg here and there to avoid/block Luke’s splashing. It was shockingly cold in my perfect lazy temperature under the tree. I got a text from my clients cancelling the workout at my house due to it being a holiday weekend. I proceeded to cancel any more obligations outside water balloon creation. I made one that was as big as my dog. My son treated me like I was the balloon goddess of all useless childlike crafts. I held my nonshowered head way high. I felt strangely as accomplished from that very endeavor as I sometimes do in my own better career moments.
Countless times I hen peck my clients to ‘rest’ and ‘recover’ and ‘relax’ and all that other ‘R’ crap that never seems to apply to me. I’ve always felt fine so why should I rest? Well because I needed it. And my son needs it. And my perspective needs it. And because traditional accomplishment or laundry can wait. I actually got more done….by not doing.