You know how when you’ve been go, go, going all the time and then suddenly a week pops up and you have nothing to do? And you think, oh hey this is great, I’ll catch up on some emails and do some editing and some writing and planning and cooking, but instead you just crash on the couch and watch Mad Men?
That. Today. Coherent. Me. Not. This guy:
I’m sure a strong argument could be made for the truth that I need to be a Grown-Up and just put on my big girl panties and take care of various responsibilities. But I also wonder if this is just my body’s way of saying, “Srsly, take care of me before I go all Rambo on you.” So I just take one to two tablespoons of chocolate chips daily and re-dent the couch with my tired rear. Amen and amen.
Truth be told, I’ve been feeling discouraged lately, but I couldn’t really tell you what I’m discouraged about. Just blah. I’m really not a summer person – humidity and I are not friends – but in many ways, I’m looking forward to the season. Longer, slower days… less doing, more being. A time of rest before the harvest of doing strikes up again. I’m so ready.
Although my summers really look more like this,
it’s nice to have dreams anyway.
I want to go to there. Mostly so I could pretend I was on Lost.
Where do you go to get away?