DAY OFF

A free day from work, and I have spent it doing laundry. Thus, the life of the family man; extra time means that I need to do something like a chore.

I’m not complaining, as I do get a deep satisfaction from, such as today, washing the sheets for my kid’s bed and her favorite dress so she can ware it at school tomorrow. Making her happy makes me happy.

It’s the change that has happened to me, which is a clear delineation from the old me.

A day off pre-child, let alone, pre-marriage, meant staying up late and sleeping in. I might treat myself to a lunch, and a couple of afternoon beers. Maybe a nap… watch a movie. Knowing me, even though I would have work then next day, I would stay up late again.

Now, I have a window to get things done, and no farting around.

But I do fart around.

I just spent 20 minutes looking at blazers at J Crew. Do I need a blazer? I don’t think so, but I like the idea of shopping for one.

I still have this to finish, and a few essay ideas that I want to sketch out, but there are dishes in the sink.

And then there is the book of Faulkner short stories that I bought the other day that I would like to read.

It’s as if I have too many options, but I want to be able to accomplish something now. That is the measure of the day; what did I get done? Not how I relaxed it away.