It's cranberry harvest time in Southeastern Massachusetts and that means I'm seeing this as I…
You know what blows my mind? When someone says . . . I’m bored. My reaction is, whoa, what does that even mean? Listen, I never left my house from when I got home from work last Thursday until when I went to work yesterday and I was not bored for a single second.
First of all, there are chores. As someone who cannot really relax until her chores are done (hello toxic Protestant work ethic) these always come first. And just so you know, exercise is a chore. Also things like meal prep, cleaning the kitchen, little organizing projects, etc. I try to spread them out and balance my days, but I can’t sit myself down on the couch if the dishwasher is calling my name.
With chores out of the way, I can think of so many things to do. I could knit. I could read. I could spend (hours) on Tik Tok. I could watch television (I finally watched Encanto last Friday and LOVED it). I could create something in my art journal or spend some time writing. I could sew. I could play with Fred and George. In better weather I could garden but for today’s purposes I’m going with what I can do right now.
So.many.ways to spend my time.
I wasn’t always this way, though. In my previous life (before Dale) I was someone who spent time chasing after things. Shopping for stuff I didn’t need. Leaving the house just for the sake of . . . leaving the house. Looking for things to fill me up because I was lonely. Maybe even . . . dare I say it . . . bored.
These days, though, I’m content to be at home. I’ve built myself a nest full of things I love to do and I’m happy to spend my time there.
Turns out, I’m pretty good company.