I had lunch with a former co-worker on Friday, and she asked me what my schedule is like now that I'm not working. I paused to think for a second, then said, "Well, you're looking at it." I have about as many responsibilities right now as I did during any other summer vacation, except there's not a chart dictating which chores get done on what day, and I don't have the Price is Right to keep me company. It smacks of the time in the tunnel when the resident mom-of-Irish-twins was telling me I had no responsibility. I quickly corrected her by letting her know I have plenty of responsibilities in my child-free life. I have to make myself a margarita when I get home. I have to make sure the salt and tequila are put away so that the cats don't jump up on the counters and knock things off. And I have to make sure I pass out in a part of the house where S won't step on me when he gets home from work.
Oh, I know from responsibility. And sarcasm.
I have become infinitely more productive, though. I do laundry, I make dinner, I empty the dishwasher. I'm thinking of getting an apron and a couple dresses to accompany the pearls I wear when I vacuum the upstairs. Today I did some yoga, folded the Matterhorn of laundry, and blocked. What's blocking? This:
When you knit things have a tendency to not want to stay straight and flat. So you pin it down, spray it with some water, let it dry, et voila, it looks nice. I did this for another two-ish hours (there's a lot of measuring involved, it's a pretty tedious process). And I'll probably continue working on this knitting project for a good part of the day. But first I have to walk down to the mailbox and check the mail.
I am continuing to enjoy my freedom a billion times more than I thought I would. For the first time in almost a decade I'm not wishing my life would fast forward to another point. I'm actually getting things done instead of sitting slumped down in my chair hitting the refresh button every five minutes in the hopes that new news stories have been posted. I can't even begin to convey how stupidly boring my job was. I don't even want to talk about it. I prefer to channel my energy into more knitting and yoga. And margaritas.