Yesterday after church I had absolutely nothing to do. After church, I came straight home, put on my comfy clothes and took a nap, then turned on a marathon of Chef Wanted With Anne Burrell on the Food Network and made Gilbert and Sullivan Valentines.
As well as the following.
Part of the reason I had nothing to do was because I had decided to ditch my resume-writing gig. Working freelance seems like it’s going to be really attractive, until you realize that it means you’re never finished. You can never just come home and veg, because there’s always the next order, the next revision, the next disgruntled customer to deal with. And I said to myself, enough is enough. I need to stop this so that I can come home from my other jobs and do absolutely nothing.
Which, as I’ve mentioned, is what I did yesterday. Well, for most of yesterday, until it started feeling like that chapter of Little Women where the girls have a break from work and Marmee lets them do an experiment where they do absolutely no work.
And Marmee, that wise woman, says, “You may try your experiment for a week, and see how you like it. I think by Saturday you will find that all play and no work is as bad as all work and no play.”
Man, was she right about that (she usually is, and when something I’m doing starts reminding me of Little Women, I know there’s going to be some lesson to be learned). Except for me, it only took four hours or so to become sick unto death of laying like broccoli, watching TV and messing around with Photoshop. Around 5 PM, I heaved myself off the couch to walk to CVS for laundry detergent and dishsoap, then came back and did the dishes. I made dinner, vegged a little more, then changed my sheets and made my bed, put all of my clothes and shoes away, then got into my pajamas and read Vanity Fair.
Before I went to bed I checked my resume dashboard. I have never been so relieved to have a message to respond to. I think I just needed a break–and breaks are good. But you know what?