Lately, I have been really (and I mean really) looking forward to weekends. I dream of sleeping in, relaxing, reading, and taking long walks. I think of the dinners I want to make and the gardening that I want to do.
Then... it is the weekend and I am cleaning, doing laundry, and attending family functions. Cooking nothing, not gardening (because it hasn't stopped raining!), and not reading. Busy, Busy, Busy. Not "real" busy but putzing busy. I don't know how to make myself stop and sit down. There is a weird guilt thing attached to it. Is it Catholic guilt? Woman guilt? "I have no kids this is not busy at all" guilt? Who knows!
Well, this evening, G went to his brothers house to hang out and be social. I thought "Yes! tonight, I will do what I want!" I planned it out.....paint toe nails, play Wii (poor Wii has been dormant for a couple of months! shhhhhh.....don't tell!), read my book, watch a movie, make something for dinner.....Oh! The Possibilities!
Now....2 hours into "me" time.....I AM BORED! Yup! I painted my toes. Watched some free HBO. Played with the cats. Did some laundry. I am bored.
Watching TV is boring. Apparently, during the week, I watch TV and do other things at the same time. (Multi-Tasking extraordinaire). Now....trying to watch TV....I feel like I should be doing something else.
Isn't it funny that I dream of "me" time and now that I have it, I am bored with it? What does that mean?
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