The more time off I have, the less I seem to write. It seems incomprehensible that I make time to write when I’m busy & don’t bother when I’m free, but there you have it. I’m “a paradox, wrapped inside and enigma, wrapped inside a puzzle, that is a mystery.” Or, in more probable terms, I am lazy.
I’ve had three weeks of vacation (and yes, I do understand how lucky I am to have a teacher’s vacation schedule), and this has been my schedule:
- spend time with my husband
- volunteer at my local theatre
- cook for my husband (who so often cooks for me)
- try recipes I’ve been meaning to make for some time
- volunteer at my local library
- take day trips
- spend a day with each of my sisters & my niece
- tutor
- sleep in
- finish unpacking / clean the new house (this is more of a “to do” than an “already done”)
- spend more time with my husband
All in all, I haven’t done anything life-shattering, but I have spent time with loved ones & doing things I love, so I think I’m coming out on top overall.
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