Days Off

Friday was supposed to be a day off, but I had to catch up on the financials (I hadn't touched the checkbook or the bill-pay banking in way too long). After four hours (yes, four hours) I left it, but I didn't leave it behind. Not exactly.

All last week I'd looked forward to Friday, the day I was going to play with the new-to-me scientific scale (it weighs in Troy ounces, pennyweights, carats, and grams!) and separate what I wanted to sell from what I wanted to wear. I was going to start a story in one of the composition books I bought (5 for $1) at Staples during the back-to-school feeding frenzy, because I edit too much (and chicken out too much) when I create a story on my computer. I was going to take a deep, deep breath before the first weekend of fall classes began, because I knew it would be a goat rope. But I did my duty instead and paid the bills. Even when the Big Lug and I then went to play in a nearby town we ended up running errands instead of fun-hunting. And though I collapsed into bed Friday night I didn't fall asleep until after midnight, anticipating trouble during the weekend. (And, trust me, as bad as I'd thought it would be, I'd underestimated it; I'm blocking it from my mind forever.)

So, today was supposed to be a real day off. I dreamed about it - about buffing my Goodwill chest with wax and scrubbing the filthy copper hardware bright (finally), about calibrating my scale (weight provided) and bagging jewelry (and calculating potential profits), about starting the packing for a trip still two weeks away (dreaming and primping). Taking a long walk. Making a few phone calls. Having a relaxing day.

As I write this, my grandson is in the kitchen, trying very hard to sneak another cookie. Again. And I'm not regretting a moment of it.

Snuggles and book-reading, story-telling and dreamweaving, monster-acting and song-singing - it hasn't exactly been a traditional day off. And yet I feel more relaxed, more serene, than I have in a long time. Funny thing is, I remember when his father was little: I was so frustrated being "stuck" in the house with the kids - not working, not earning money, being a "leech" on my husband - when I could have had all this, this little slice of heaven. All it would've taken is a change in attitude.

By the way, I still got my scale calibrated, my chest buffed (shut up), and even some of the handles scrubbed - all (except for the copper poison) with the Electric Kid beside me. In between the lessons and the hugs and the attempt (and subsequent failure) at a walk, I also billed my boss (score!) and wrote this blog. I could get really depressed about the revelation, about the fun I'm having, but I'm much too happy to have found it at all, late as it is, to kick myself any more than I already have.

Tomorrow my schedule ramps up again, and then .. and then ... and then ... but that's just how I make a living. This is how I make a life.