Relaxing. Is a funny one. On a Monday morning I sit at my desk and dream of how my weekend will be such a relaxed one, lazing about and having time to kill. Popping into the kitchen to retrieve items from the fridge occasionally, drinking delicious smoothies and catching up on life. However, my Friday I begin to worry if no plans have been made for the weekend, and think up places we can visit, things that need doing.
You see, that’s how perculiar I am. I like the idea of relaxing, but I deem it a ‘waste of a weekend’. Life is incredibly short (I’m sure I was only 12 a few years ago….) and it seems that I want to cram as much in as possible. I guess you could look at it in a good way, making the most of everything and what not (yes, cramming in as much as possible does sometimes mean pottering around the shops. It counts OK!) but sometimes, just sometimes maybe it is time to stop and appreciate having nothing to do. And take time out for yourself. I tried it. It was difficult but I tried.
I had an afternoon all to myself. Little B was out with friends playing golf, and little R was terrorizing the butterflies in the garden (I know, I’ve tried having words..) so I grabbed some snacks from the fridge (a good start if you ask me), poured a cold Fanta into a glass and headed upstairs to the freshly decorated spare room. For those first five minutes I was super prepared and ready for this, grabbing my favourite light read, turning on my most listened to Spotify playlist and opened the window letting in the warm air. I was ready to do this. I decided to paint my toenails, scroll through Twitter, catch up on blogs and browse Pinterest. Then I read some of my book. I was doing this, I was being relaxed and kind of enjoying it. Thinking that a good few hours had gone by, I looked at my clock and realised that 34 minutes had passed. THIRTY FOUR MINUTES. Was that it? Now what? I was bordering on fidgety by this point (I’m a fidgety kinda gal) but I persisted. For another 21 minutes. And then. I gave up. Got dressed and decided that I needed to visit Asda. And then see a friend, and then do some baking. Maybe I am just not the relaxing kind?
Was I slightly bored? A little. Will I be doing it again? Possibly. Do I regret it? No.