I’m Not Complaining

It’s the dream life. I mean it. I roll out of bed whenever i’m done sleeping. Sometimes 10, sometimes 7:15. Check e-mail, lazily make some coffee. Meditate with my teacher in the first floor apartment. Think about how it would be good for me to take a run. Scramble some eggs and listen to Brian Lehrer instead. After that i often fall into a slight depression about the state of the world, say hi to the plants. And then..?

I’ll usually look at The Big To Do List. The Big To Do List involves major life projects, scary and intimidating life projects. I made it earnest a few weeks ago, but now i’m thinking it mostly just gets me to do The Little To Do List. The Little To Do List has things like – Pay Student Loan on it. I’ve been powering through it. I re-potted that one plant, i hung the drapes properly, i called the phone company. The phone company seems like chocolate ice cream with sprinkles in the face of - Learn to Write, Really. That’s on The Big To Do List.

Money-wise i’m ok for the short while. Last summer’s months of working nights and weekends were meant to give me a couple months here to do my own thing. But like many who have come before me, the limitlessness of the day is freaking me out. Imagine the impossibility of using lack of time as an excuse for anything at all. And what about this incredible weather? The late summer days of the past week or so have been so lovely that they make me feel guilty about sitting at my computer thinking about redesigning my portfolio, or writing. So i take a walk. Didn’t i need something from the hardware store? Don’t i feel like a fifth cup of coffee? Where was that place with the good cheese again? Should i take a bike ride? But what about that writing thing, i should really start that. But what about the east side of prospect Park, i’ve never been over there… Can you imagine!?!? Naturally i head straight to the NY Times Crossword puzzle online, just to end the paralysis.

Also you can not imagine how dirty the apartment gets when you spend all day in it. Cooking three meals a day are murder on the white kitchen tiles. I find the mop and bucket permanently “out”. And i find myself turning into a loopy, yet politically quite well-informed, housewife. Minus the husband with the paycheck and the kids at soccer practice of course. I poached a salmon in white wine and orange juice and am playing enough tennis for a whole country club of idle ladies. And i may also be in the midst of setting a record for finishing five (yes five) issues of The New Yorker in a week and a half. It really is a dream life. I try to wake myself up by remembering prime late morning hours spent trapped in an office in front of a flickering screen dreaming of rolling around and reading all day. So why is it hard to breath deep and enjoy it now? Frankly, i mostly really enjoy it. There are these rough patches though. And i’m going through one of those this week. Big Time. It’s every so often, like turbulence in flight, when i feel completely useless and off course. It seems like the whole rest of the world is engaged in challenging and normal uses of their day, and even if they are unhappy and unsatisfied, at least they’re all brothers in the struggle. Where are my brothers? Here? Possibly..

It’s not boredom so much as kind of paralyzing fear of the day, of the week. It’s so boundless. Like most of the country i was raised strictly in the fashion that one does something during the week day. Only on Saturdays and Sundays is it acceptable to sit on the stoop and drink ice tea. (Unless you are sneakily playing hookey from school or work which is only legal like twice a year). Currently it feels gluttonous and directionless. It also feels like i’m not being even remotely as productive as i should be. To combat this i’ve started several sub-lists of the Big To Do List. It falls in the region between – Buy Toothpaste and – Decide About Career. It hasn’t yet been determined if this will be effective, but i’m hopeful.

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