Last night the happy hour folks at my house decided to go to the Mediterranean restaurant down the street. Did I want to go? I’m usually up for any company, any outing, but I heard myself say no. I wanted to stay home, make creamed chicken (that earned a few “Yuck” comments) and work at my desk. In retrospect it was a good/bad decision—they were gone almost three hours and I would have gotten antsy. My creamed chicken had too much wine and not enough milk—didn’t know I knew such a thing as too much wine, did you?
The larger issue, and one that concerns me, is that I’d been home, alone, at my desk, all day. I should have jumped at a chance to go somewhere with friends.
This morning, I woke at seven, perfectly rested—went to the restroom and crawled in bed to doze for an hour and a half. I didn’t need to do that. When I finally got up, my household—Jordan and two ten-year-olds—was in full swing. It dawned on me that the reason I’m lingering in bed these days is that nothing urgent, no projects on my desk, call to me.
As I’ve said before recently, I keep busy. When people ask what I’m writing, I tell them I’m managing my career—and that’s pretty much true. But I used to manage it and write, cook, etc. Cooking is hard, laundry is hard, and so I pretty much let a lot of things slide.
Late August, being the start of the school year, has always seemed like the start of a new year to me, much more than January 1. So my new-year resolution is to get my game face on, get more involved in the house, the move, new projects. I may not get it all done in one day, but I’ll do it. The path I’m on now leads to aging, and I don’t want that.
This week, I’ll start with packing personal belongings for Saturday’s big move. Company tonight brought an innovative supper—cheese, salami, smoked salmon and bread—and then they volunteered to help pack this week. I’ve got good friends.
Watch my dust! (Oops, I think I just mixed my metaphors).