Thought Food
I confess to the onset of laziness. My alarm still goes off at six, but that’s about all it does. These days, I’m just as likely to turn it off and go back to sleep as I am to get up and get going. Sort of defeats the purpose of an alarm, but I want eight hours of sleep and I’ve been getting it. Strangely enough it also coincides with my decision to stop writing these little essays on weekends and take some time off. Apparently, it is now leaking over into my daily routine.
I don’t suppose it’s really that much of a problem. I mean no one is paying me to do this. I do it because I want to and occasionally have something I want to say. But I still feel slightly derelict in my duty, although, again, it’s not really a duty it’s just me wanting to do it, and I suppose now the wanting is starting to wane and I don’t really know why. It must have something to do with this feeling I’ve had lately that I want to disappear. Not like, poof, go away, but just disappear for a bit, be anonymous, which is an odd thing to say, because no one really likes to be anonymous. We all like to be seen. Maybe not all, but most of us do.
Maybe I just need some alone time, which is different than disappearing, and all these feeling are simply my system’s way of telling me I need go away and recharge my batteries. Because even though I’m now taking weekends off, I’m still at it most days and I know there are people who actually read this and I don’t want to disappoint, so maybe it’s just me being spooked by the idea that people like this and I’m terrified that I will disappoint so my mind and body are conspiring to say, just don’t do it. There’s a long, convoluted thought. It might one worth exploring. Food for thought, so to speak.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale