I have had the last three days to myself, and its been wonderful.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my husband. I love my parents. I love all my friends. But it had been a LONG time since I put me 100% first.
My husband has been on a run west, and I hate to say that I was looking forward to it… but I was. (I wrote about it over at Road Widows.) I was craving time to just do my thing. To rejuvenate. To have a mini-vacation within the walls of my own house.
I got so much done. Three design projects completed (or as complete as they can be in this moment), two more started, and wedding photos from last week are started as well. I feel so much lighter shortening my to do list.
Oh my list of goals was ambitious. Somehow I thought I was going to organize the office and deep clean the house, too, in the time provided. Nuh uh. I did good to get the laundry done and fresh sheets on the bed. And keep the dishes done on a day-to-day basis.
So I didn’t get it ALL done. I’m okay with that! And I missed July 4th with friends. I’m okay with that, too. The last few days, selfish as it might sound, was all about ME. And I am not going to apologize for that fact.
Life got really busy and crazy for awhile. Then as soon as it slowed down, my body slowed down even further leaving me sick in bed with a fever for a few days. Life is normal again, save for the nagging cough that’s hung around and the stuffy nose that just won’t leave, with a normal schedule and normal responsibilities. Somewhere along the “too busy to write” I also lost a lot of interest in it. Every day I open my blog site, and most days I close it without even clicking “new post.”
But today, I got up from a nice long night of sleep, went outside with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and I just sat on my porch swing.
The lawn was freshly mowed yesterday before my husband left for another weekend on the road. Friday is trash day, so a few now-empty trashcans still sit on the side of the road, waiting for their owners to come home from work. The thermometer reads 91° but in the shade with the light breeze it doesn’t seem so bad. Our American flag on the front of the house flutters, and a bee buzzes me every now and then.
I take it all in and realize how blessed I am to live in a safe, quiet neighborhood. It’s a beautiful summer day, and I’m struck with the urge to write and share it with everyone. I do so love to write still, but I can’t keep forcing myself to try to write every single day. It takes the fun out of it, and it makes it truly feel like a job. I have to want to write every day again, like I once did. Writing is something I enjoy, and there is no reason I can’t keep it as part of my career. But writing is a pleasure, and it can’t be forced or it feels fake.
I’m not here to pledge to write more often, but I am here to pledge to write as I feel compelled to do so. Life is back to normal, and there is no reason for me to continue living as if it isn’t. I need to get out of my date book and back into the world. The breeze rustling my hair told me that. And it is high time I listen.