A Perfectly Lovely Sunday

Recently, over french toast and coffee, a friend lamented that she often doesn't know what to do with her time. On the weekends, it can be difficult for her to just get out of bed because she has no strong ambition to do anything.

Coffee mug on lip, I stopped mid slurp, completey shocked. Although sympathetic to her plight, I couldn't help feeling a bit jealous. I cannot remember the last time I felt a hint of boredom or lack of ambition. In fact, I rarely sleep in anymore because once I start stirring, my mind automatically begins to race, thinking about all the things I should accomplish in the day ahead. Sometimes there are real deadlines to face but often, it's simply about crossing a few things off of my never ending "to do" list. Even when the trip to the bank has been completed and the caterpillars that have become my eyebrows are properly groomed, I have the much bigger, more important desires looming above me: writing projects that have been put aside due to excessive nanny gigs.

And when I have something that is really going to take me away from my normal routine (say, an awesome trip to Germany), I become super anxious about getting everything in order. You can imagine the ridiculous six page "to do" list I've got going on now, right? So at 9am this morning, while half of the world still donned duckie slippers, I downed half a cup of coffee (no time for more!) and headed out the door. I was going to attend some lectures at the Brooklyn Book Festival. However, attendees were required to show up an hour before each lecture to obtain the free tickets. Since the programming started at 10am, few of the other authors, publishers, or small presses had their tables set up to peruse when I arrived. I picked up my ticket, looked around, and thought, now what?

My mind instantly rifled through the the pre-trip list. What can I accomplish in this valuable 45 minutes? I wondered. Aha! Barnes and Noble (German phrase book) and American Apparel (awesomely thick thigh high "tights", absolutely perfect for brisk, autumn Germanic days) are just down the street. I practically skipped down Court Street, thinking about two more things I could cross off the list before the majority of the city had even scanned the Sunday morning headlines.

But alas, B&N didn't open until ten o'clock; American Apparel, eleven. For a moment, I felt a knot in my stomach. Precious time wasted? How inefficient! What would I do with myself? My God, I didn't even have a book in my purse. I couldn't even educate myself!

Then suddenly, I became aware of the lovely weather, recognizing that it was an absolutely perfect Sunday morning. On a whim, I decided to treat myself to a coffee which I rarely ever do. After chatting with the barista for a while (where the hell did I need to be at 9:30?), I strolled back down the street, casually window shopping and watching people walk their dogs. And unlike the usual stress that results when I can't make use of my time (i.e. run errands, work on an article, contemplate the existence of God), I felt incredibly calm, not feeling the need to accomplish a single thing in that moment.

As the day progressed, I did more of the same: I strolled; I attended lectures; I checked out the tables that represented publishers and authors; I chatted with some of these folks. I felt completely content in my solitude. In fact, I found myself feeling ridiculously happy, smiling at strangers more than usual. I wasn't running to catch a bus or trying to get to the dry cleaner's before it closed. I didn't feel like everyone was in my way. Instead, I took the time to enjoy the scene in front of me and everyone that was a part of it.

And when I felt like I had had enough, I took a leisurely walk back to the subway. When I got home, I even had the audacity to take a nap. And right now, even though I'm the biggest non-sports fan ever, I've got the Packer game on because it is strangely comforting to me. Reminds me of those cozy Sunday afternoons back in Wisconsin, post eggs and bacon, when we all ended up snoozing during half time.

Amazing. Fifteen years later, I am reminded that I am capable of true relaxation again.

Perhaps that's an achievement I can cross off of my list.