I had all these grand plans for productivity during my vacation. I was going to build a raised garden bed, do some major weeding and plan some landscaping for the back, and work on the landscaping out front. I was going to organize the spare room and continue working my way through the boxes of papers and items I’ve been collecting throughout my life. I was going to gather together a new load of donations for the charities that are making the rounds next week. I was going to gather all my tax info and work on the taxes.
Instead, I whinged on my blog, I went for a walk, not once, but twice! And, I curled up in a chair and read some short stories from The Best American Short Stories, 2001. I wasn’t ready to commit to a full novel, as I tend to become incapacitated once I start a book, and can do nearly nothing else until I’m finished. It’s a bit sad that it’s taken me this long to get to that book. I probably bought it in 2002.
I’ve decided to push the guilty feelings aside — guilt for not tackling a single thing on my to do list — and pat myself on the back for taking a time out, which is an excellent use of a vacation day, after all.
