Fizzy Little Cherry Drink

This year's resolution is to rest more. Last April I decided to take Sundays off from writing, which felt ugly at first, but then like a long breath. Still, little emails and annoyances worked their ways into the holy day. Saturday afternoons started to feel sack heavy because I let all my essay and publishing research plop there. It was supposed to be a break from the television hustle, but it felt alien and difficult. So in 2021 I'm attempting to have two real, full, plump weekend days. Errands or phone calls or classes or activism, okay. But no spreadsheets or google docs, email filtering or trade reading.

The impulse to be productive is strong in me. I told myself these days after the new year were a treasured reset. I did a yoga livestream and bought a sound bath mp3. I hold my purple stone for balance and try to sit on the balcony a few minutes for no reason. The woodpecker taps on my brain, why not at least get to the draft and jumpstart the week, organize the story cards. There's a hint of fear in the morning. What to do with endless time, endless time in quarantine no less. It feels stupid to make up little busies to fill the space. Last night after (early) dinner, I had nothing in mind. So we got out some playing cards for a few hands, then a boxed game, next thing I knew I was unwound and delighted, my mind whirring quickly and challenged--but for something that didn't matter at all for a change.

I also bought a set of patio chairs for the aforementioned balcony reverie. "I'm so used to not getting anything I don't need," I said, cracking open a fizzy little cherry drink (also unneeded--the calories? The $2.00 cost?). Puhg agreed, but then he wondered if always operating from a need-based place makes you tired, worn, and extremely resentful of anyone who doesn't.

By the way, researching which patio chair to get took a very long time. I dislike shopping, so this would usually send me into an angry slump, but because I had nothing planned for the afternoon I could take my time. I spent thirty minutes on the phone with customer service in the morning, signing up for online workout classes, but what of it. All these mundane and necessary pins don't seem so bad with an empty day planner.

And now tomorrow I start strong. Revisions of this, new scenes of that, brainstorms of the other thing. I'll be looking forward to the whirl of all there is. It's been such rolling hills for days.