unvacationing
We’re back. The kids are back in school. Cowboy is back at work. The little boys are back at mischief (more about that later). I am mostly back in bed each morning.
I’m not depressed. The house is relatively clean. Homeschool is getting done. The boys are happy. I even made bread yesterday. And meals every night this week. I exercised -twice! But I want to be on vacation. I know, I know, we only went camping, which can be even more work than staying home… Wait, it is a lot more work now that I think of it… Sure, I had meals to fix. But it was over a fire. I had cleaning to do. But it consisted of Clorox wipes and the garbage can. We were dusty and smelled like smoke all day, but who cares? The great outdoors.
Technically, I should be glad to be back, now that I’ve washed every single article we took with us. I’m not really an outdoorsy kind of gal.
But it all comes down to one little word:
routine
It kills my enthusiasm. My free spirit (and you thought I was just lazy) rebels at the thought of a schedule. And then the Dr. Jeckle in me speaks reason and sensibility to my soul and I crave order and cleanliness. Then the two sides battle it out in my mind, while I lie in bed and obliviously tickle the ivory ebony on my laptop.
The crazy thing is, neither side wins. My house gets half cleaned, the laundry washed but not folded, my writing half written -no second or third drafts here, my time half wasted on the internet.
Logic occasionally, and thankfully, overrides and I realize that without a schedule I am simply going to waste away my life in a bed half made. You know what I mean, people?
I’ve just got to wake up and get my butt out of bed and go for it.
And someday I’ll thank myself and celebrate by going on a very, very long vacation.
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