It's a lovely day to be lazy. It's 9:30 a.m. The temperature hasn't reached 75 degrees yet, and I am sitting outside my apartment in a folding chair.
It's August 26th. Summer is winding down. This streak of cooler weather seems more forgiving somehow. I don't know why I need to be forgiven in the summer heat, but today I am guilt free.
It's exactly this kind of day that makes me think back to the beginning of summer. At the beginning of June, when perfect days were lining up like Miss America contestants, I had a different life. I was a receptionist. I was an office worker. I was an eight to five lady, and I resented it. I wanted to be doing something else.
So on June 16th, I traded my steady job in for a dream. I planned to write. One of the perks to writing was going to be: when the weather was beautiful, I'd be able to enjoy it.
But the days have passed, and I've spent most of my time sitting at home huddled in front of my computer. I've been pushing myself along with the motto, "Write to make money. Write to make money."
This morning I woke up all determined. It's Friday. I write a column on Friday. That means I am required to spend the day crafting an essay about how silly life can be. I had a subject all lined up, and I was going to attack it like I used to attack my old receptionist tasks. Just do it. Just get it done.
But as the morning minutes slipped away, resentment began to curl in my gut. I didn't want to write. I wanted to sit outside and soak in the cool morning air.
That's when I realized something. In June, I arranged my time so I would have the flexibility to enjoy myself. A writer needs to capture life when it is raw and true. But I've been so busy trying to get published that I've almost traded in one joyless job for another.
It's so easy to create my own mental trap of drudgery. It's my need to be productive at all costs that makes me a slave.
Well! I didn't embark on this writing life to get discouraged. So I dragged a folding chair down three flights of stairs, placed it in my front lawn, and sat myself in a cool, sunny place. I stared at the yellowing leaves above me. I looked into the grass at my feet and wondered if an ant would start crawling over my big toe. And when I was ready, I pulled out a tiny notebook I had stashed in my pocket, just in case.
Right now, I'm enjoying myself. I'm sitting on a folding chair on the lawn outside of my apartment and I'm writing. I'm enjoying the breeze across my shoulders. And even though it's a lovely day to be lazy, I've still managed to write a column about how silly life can be.
I love self-discovery, don't you?
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