I should be writing reports since the first drafts are due for editing tomorrow, so obviously I’m here instead, ready to ramble on about nothing in particular which is an awfully good way to sum up the last two weeks in general.
A whole lot of nothing in particular.
Yesterday, I climbed out of bed before anyone else as I usually do and I was SHOCKED to find it already half past eight! I proceeded to spend most of the day finishing my second novel of the month, the afternoon punctuated by a leisurely trip to the Costco with my best girl. Come bedtime, I had started another novel. Three in one month, a record.
Like every other family, we are evaluating our summer now that all previous plans have been cancelled. Ironically, this would have been the most scheduled summer we’ve ever had. And while it’s unfortunate that some of the fun things (Emet vacationing in Positano! Jade spending a week at sleepaway camp! Roux going to a local day camp for the first time!) aren’t happening, being at home together without agenda has been unexpectedly refreshing.
As a person with a wandering mind who’s so rarely afforded the opportunity to indulge in such a luxury as aimless pondering, I may as well be at an all-inclusive resort for the world of good this respite is doing me. On the eve of the midpoint of the year, it’s not a bad way to be.
Truly, I can hardly believe six months of 2020 have expired, and the vast majority of them in quarantine. Admittedly, we are ever so slowly easing our way back out into the world. By this, I mean a kid (or two) will occasionally join me on an errand. Last week, we learned that our beloved zoo had reopened so the little one and I visited three times in as many days. Rumor has it that tomorrow my gym will reopen, which is the place I have missed most during the closures. Apparently, cases of the virus are on the rise here in San Diego, but unless formally restricted, I plan to be one of the first members back in for a workout.
I came pretty darn close to accomplishing all of the little goals I set for myself at the beginning of the month. I might not have made even a single stitch of progress on my sweater, but I did read more than I planned to, and made an entire quilt that wasn’t even on my list to begin with.
Granting myself permission to unwind a bit, offering myself grace and space and acceptance, these are skills upon which I have greatly improved. I am certain its the kind of thing that comes with age, especially as I witness my own children simmer in the same kind of self-criticism I remember so clearly from my own adolescence.
Something else I remember: as a teenager, I almost always waited until the very last possible second to address any and all writing assignments and it seems as though that is a habit I’ve yet to outgrow.