I finished painting the upstairs here at my house three weeks ago; it took me about three weeks to paint the four rooms up there. I took a few days to pat myself on the back, then tried to talk me into getting back to work, to do the same spiff-up to the first floor.
Didn't happen. I mean, I only had a few weeks until I left to visit Kate. That wasn't enough time to finish up the entire project, and thus and therefore, I couldn't possibly even start. And that was that.
How do I motivate myself when my old tricks to motivate me no longer apply? When I have all of the days free, how do I know which are work days, and which are rest days? All I know right now is that the last three weeks have all been rest days.
I took particular delight in not doing any of the things I should have done this past Monday. I stirred, and before I was quite awake, thought I needed to go in to work. I thought I had a busy day ahead and started to mentally review the things I hoped to get done between interruptions. I then woke up the rest of the way, realized I was retired and had exactly zero pressing deadlines for the day, and snuggled back under the covers for another thirty minutes, watching the sun glint on the stained glass art in my window.
When I finally got going and went downstairs, I ate breakfast, looked at my actual to-do list, and picked up a novel. I climbed into my comfy chair, reveling in my rebellion against the 'shoulds' I'd laid out for the day. I snuggled in under a blanket and spent most of the day reading my story, stopping now and again to remind myself it was Monday and I didn't have to go to work. It was a delightful day.
I've known for ages I'm not good at relaxing, so I'm counting this one as a win. It matters to no one, including myself, whether the paint project gets finished before or after my California trip, as long as it gets done before it's too hot to open the windows and clear out the paint fumes. Why NOT take a few days (weeks!) off? I dunno...
I'll keep working on it.
In the meantime, my upcoming trip beckons. I was feeling a bit uneasy about the whole thing, and wasn't sure why. I've missed Kate, and have been looking forward to having some time to spend with her again. Then the lightbulb went on. The last time I went to California, the whole world shut down two days after I got there. I mean, if I started an unprecedented pandemic last time I flew out there to relax and figure out what I want to do when I grow up, what's to say it won't happen again?
I'll just have to take my chances.
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