Originally posted March 9, 2009
Have you ever noticed that as a society we are so obsessed with DOING and ACCOMPLISHING and BECOMING that even our vacations are supposed to be productive?
Have time off? You should go somewhere new! Take an exciting trip! Chronicle your adventures so as to make your friends and coworkers jealous of JUST HOW EXCITING the life you lead is.
Ok. But what if I don’t wanna?
What if I want to bask in the deliciousness of sleeping late and waking up slow, leasurely sipping my (Irish?) coffee while I read the news or listen to music or watch Bobby Flay get a sushi-slinging lession from Masaharu Morimoto from the comfort of my own bed?
What if I want to take advantage of my typically booked-up days to drive around and explore the uncharted territories of my own city?
What if I want to spend my usually-exhausted nights seeing friends who may or may not live right around the corner from me?
My natural inclination is to feel haven’t been productive enough in the last week, one of two precious vacation weeks I’m allotted each year. I remember having the same type of reaction after I graduated from college – those first few weekends I had to myself after years of working my way through school, every day and evening accounted for by SOMETHING I had to do. It was impossible to relax, to feel that those days off were deserved.
But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve begun to look at these little respites – whether weekends or entire weeks – as physical, emotional, and mental necessities. Not as blank slates waiting to be filled up with intriguing activities.
Travel is fabulous. OF COURSE it is. And I want to do a hell of a lot of it in the future. But you know, sometimes it’s better to just laze around.
I ain’t apologizing one bit.
P.S. – This recent, much-needed bout of resting up should result in my posting to this blog more regularly. Sorry for the inactivity lately.