Day Off

After the third hour of our conference call yesterday, my boss looked at me and said “You didn’t want to be here tomorrow, did you?  I don’t think I do either.”  Less than an hour later, she sent a note to our Deputy to tell him we’d both be out and that the world was unlikely to stop spinning, but here’s our cell phone numbers just in case.  And just like that, a three-day weekend was unexpectedly born. 

Theoretically, the extra time should mean I'd have more time to relax.  I love the idea of relaxing.  I read the Facebook status updates of others that talk about sinking into the couch and watching TV or having a movie-fest.  Isn't that a great thought?  It sounds so comfy. 

But for whatever reason, I just can't put it into practice.  There’s always a to-do list in my head.  I can’t seem to sit for more than an hour or two at home without feeling like I ought to be up doing something (in truth, probably several somethings).  The only time I seem to manage that “sink in and relax” thing effectively is when I go away somewhere – preferably somewhere that I’m not in charge of doing anything but relaxing.

So how did I spend my day off?  I read a little and wrote a little.  I cleaned (all the things!).  I mowed (lots of) grass.  I spent some time with the Monkey at a crazy chaotic school fundraiser.  I had a glass of wine (and excellent conversation) with a friend.  There’s a load of laundry whirling away downstairs and I’m reveling in the fact that I can pretty much do with the rest of my weekend as I please.

I did not relax today.  I’ve barely had a minute of down time since I got up this morning, but I have thoroughly loved my day off.