Today I have been contemplating the concept of the weekend. I haven't had a weekend off in the last three months or so. While most of them were filled with working in the office, there were some where I still had to be "on" for non-work-related weekend family trips and wedding festivities.
Last weekend was the first one I had "off" -- I went on a hike with my college buddies and made sure to have a lot of time to myself afterwards. But true rest still eluded me.
And then another week descends on me...
Each day and night is a negotiation of whether we will be getting more stuff done or more rest. You plan date-time with yourself this weekend. There are some tasks you'd like to get done: clean the bathroom, catch up on e-mails with friends, look at your expenses to better budget your finances.
We get to Friday evening, but it's still not your time -- it's time to go to a musical and catch up with an old friend till the wee hours of the morning.
We get to Saturday -- time to buy a gift for and go to a friend's bridal shower. After that, you say, you will have all the time for yourself.
The bridal shower runs into early evening. You're driving home and wonder whether you still have the energy to keep the date you had planned for yourself -- ramen noodles on College Ave. then a screening of the film "Winter's Bone" playing at the Shattuck.
You are determined to keep the date with yourself. And you go.
Saturday's over -- drat, didn't get to the weekend tasks. At least the temptation to do work at this hour is completely out of the question.
Sunday comes. You wake up earlier than usual. Unlike most Sundays, you had prepared to have a little downtime before you go to the church worship service; no attempts to do any of your tasks before going to church, like you usually do.
You eat a hearty breakfast of peanut butter and jelly toast with the intention of going to the local pool to get some laps in after church. You will exercise outside, dang it, you tell yourself. It's summer.
You go to church. You do not socialize with your friends afterwards. This is your time, you remind yourself. You get home. You feel like reading a magazine before you head to the pool. You do it. Then you look at the time and make sure you have at least 1 hour to do your laps.
You change into your bathing suit before heading out. It's cold, you think to yourself. And I think I might be on the verge of getting sick. Is it a good idea to go to the pool?
But you push yourself to go. You drive to the pool, pay the $5, march into the women's locker room, take your clothes off with your bathing suit on already, don your swim cap, and you force yourself to go into the cold shower to rinse off. You step out into the pool area. The sun is shining and the breeze isn't too bad. Some quick stretches, some pacing between the lane you have decided to swim in, and the cabinet with all the kickboards and buoys, and you insert yourself into the warm salty water. And you stroke.
20 minutes in, as you turn your head back and forth to breathe, and you see the blue sky and sun-drizzled scenery, you are smiling inside. You cool down kicking with the kickboard and you feel like you've made the best decision of your life coming here.
You're back home and you toast some bread with cheese, cut open an avocado, and rip off a tin of sardines. You cut an orange into slices. You realize that you eat out almost everyday and relish this opportunity to make your own simple lunch with fresh fruits and not have to transact to have this meal. You make a pact with yourself to swim and make a fresh meal afterwards every Sunday.
You wash the dishes and you have an inner dialogue with yourself, or rather, between your husband self and your wife self.
Wife: Dear, are we still going to go to your co-worker's party this afternoon? It's been such a great relaxing day. Let's stay home.
Husband: I haven't decided yet. There were some things I still wanted to do before going.
Wife: You still haven't cleaned the bathroom sink. It's disgusting.
Husband: I told you I'd get to it this week.
Wife: You're not going to work, are you?
Husband: No (hesitantly). (then more confidently) No. Just wanted to organize around the house a bit. I think we should buy a new vacuum cleaner.
Wife: And we have to plan our vacation. We are going to have a vacation.
Husband: Don't worry. I'm not going to let them persuade me to stay.
Wife: We have to get out of here, lest you feel tempted to go to the office.
Husband: I know, dear.
Wife: (softly) I hardly see you. This is the first time in a long while that we've actually spent time with each other.
Husband: I know, dear.
Wife: It's like I'm living with a robot who doesn't really care for me.
Husband: I do, darling.
Wife: You know, you don't have to do this.
Husband: I know. And it's just temporary. And it's good for us - it provides us stability and the resources to do things we enjoy, go on vacation, eat well...
Wife: But you're not happy right now. I can see it.
Husband: It'll be over soon. It will be.
