My brother and I just finished watching one of those travel shows where the host goes to some exotic, far-flung location and makes you wish you were there, and honestly, I didn’t want to be there. There was the southwest coast of Italy, and as amazingly gorgeous as the seaside views were, the motto of Enjoy the sweetness of doing nothing* just didn’t sit well with me.
I like being productive. Hell, I like being overwhelmed with a million things to do, and feeling like I’m making headway on my goals. I like juggling a truckload of responsibilities and knowing that I’m kicking ass at my to-do list. It’s just what I do. So this? This “vacation” thing that I’ve got going on right now? It’s bugging me out, man.
I know I’ve been working my ass off, what with school and Riley and Rob leaving soon and all that, but now that my to-do list is pretty clear, I’m finding it hard to function. I try to study my nursing material and read books for fun, but I just can’t keep it together. I’m going stir-crazy. For reals. Without the mountain of stuff to do every day, all I’m doing is eating and cooking and cleaning and actually breathing and relaxing and smelling flowers and laying around in pajamas all day with my amazing boyfriend and toddler. And OHMYGOD, GIVE ME SOMETHING TO DO!!! I AM NOT CUT OUT FOR THIS.
I like being harried and frenzied and manic. I like staying up editing papers and making money and doing the studying necessary to get uber-high grades. I like being efficient and seeming like I’m Wonderwoman when in all reality all I’m doing is conforming to my masochistic urge to spread myself way too thin.
I’ve decided to let my vegetable garden go dry and weed-astic and let the laundry pile up for a few days just so I can have something seemingly “big” to take care of.
In case you weren’t aware, people, these are the facts: I’m nutso. And I love it.