This weekend was nice, wasn’t it? Although I hate Mondays that leave me more tired than Friday, but so it goes if we pack our lives of full adventures. Part of me thinks this is okay; part of me thinks I need to slow down and minimize some activities in my life. I’m having a bit of a “minimialist crisis” if you will. I’ve been reading about how to simplify your life for happiness and learning to say no to crap and reducing your belongings to 100 items only. Uh, excuse me? Yeah, no way I could get down to 100, but I really want to rid myself of a lot of stuff that I have. It is mentally clogging my mind and physical space. Now that I’m settled, I know what I need and what I don’t need. Which reminds me, I’m selling my couches so if you know anyone who is looking, let me know. I’ll take any offer.
Point is, I had a “free” weekend this past weekend, but it quickly filled up with people and events. This is definitely NOT a complaint. But it does cause me to question when I rest. When do I unwind? When do I do nothing? I got a little bit of nothing in on Sunday afternoon, but the bathroom built-in construction was looming (and still is). And now I have 30 minutes to get the sawdust out of the living room floor before SubCo comes over for practice. It will take 45 minutes at least. It’s a lot of sawdust.
And yet again, every night this week is filled with activities after work. I promise I don’t mean to do that and schedule so much. I have commitments, most of which are fun extra-curricular improv stuff, but people depend on me nonetheless. And can I pause for a moment to discuss people who flake? If you can’t do something, just say that! Flaking has been an issue more so recently and I try to keep my flakiness to a minimum. On the receiving end, it is very frustrating. Enough said about that.
Part of me wonders why I feel the need to schedule so much anyway. In thinking back, maybe I’ve always been like this. I don’t remember a time that I wasn’t programmed for some after school activity. I over did it in high school, and a little bit in college, but that never dropped off after graduating. Actually, my Atlanta year was pretty miserable, but even then I was looking for things to do after work to keep me entertained. Do I need these activities as entertainment or am I running from something? And not in a way that implies I’m running from a terrible childhood (definitely not), but what happens if I sit still and think? Am I afraid to know what I think? Will the voice inside my head actually be heard, and I’m scared to hear what she’s saying or what she thinks of me?