I made this ridiculous goal on November 23 that I would complete all of my Christmas shopping and wrapping before December 1. Never mind that my family was coming to stay with us for much of the week of Thanksgiving and my in-laws were all coming for Thanksgiving Day. You know, 8 house guests and then dinner for 22… no big deal, plus I was taking a day and a half of vacation.
I’m tightly wound. It’s a fact. I’m not sure if it is my wish or expectation that when I go on vacation that fact magically changes and I’m able to immediately unwind. It doesn’t work that way.
If there has been a theme of the week, it is that I don’t want to do anything. I don’t think there is anything wrong with me except that I’d like to be on vacation more than I would like to be at work. If given the choice, I would choose a tropical locale by myself for vacation. Just saying. I feel glacial, like I need to slowly move from one thing to the next… or not at all. My feet have lost their hustle. I just want to be.
Two weeks ago, I was out for a walk over lunch at my office. I work on a beautiful campus that is surrounded by nature. On the walk, the trees were just beginning to burst with chartreuse leaves. The air that day was filled with the scent of spring. Fresh. New. Revived. I reveled in the sun beating down on my black tropical wool dress and warming my soul. After a long winter, I breathed in the rebirth of nature and exhaled the biting darkness past.
Sunday morning, I heard something that I haven’t heard in months… the sound of birds chirping. Given the frigid temperatures, I’m starting to think I may have been hallucinating. It seems like it has been weeks where the thermometer in my car has read 7 degrees. It hasn’t actually been 7 degrees, but for whatever reason (perhaps that Honda wants to protect the mental health of all Northerners) if it is colder than that, it still reads 7.