It’s hard to talk about not working full-time. I feel guilty that I am not in my cubicle, helping to churn out work, alleviating pressure on others, doing my part to contribute to the Gross National Product. It’s hard to say that I love my life without feeling a little bad about it. But I do.
Yesterday Justin and I had breakfast at Galaxy Cafe at 9:00 a.m. We walked over to Caffe Medici for coffee afterward, then went back home. I took a nap. I had lunch with friends. I ran errands. I took photos. I made lists. I read a book. I did crossword puzzles. I worked on a new project.
Today I slept in. Justin and I had sandwiches together for lunch, and then I drove around town all afternoon. I looked for vintage glassware and plates at Goodwill, checked out the fabrics at Hancock, stopped at Parts & Labour to see what was new, dropped books off at the library. Justin had a dinner meeting, and I stayed home, glued to my computer, working on updating a website. I’ve been at it for maybe 3 1/2 hours, and I’m betting I’ll stay up most of the night working on it until I finish. And that’s okay, because tomorrow, I can sleep in, if needed.
I lose track of weekends and weekdays, because we work every day, and don’t work every day. I don’t feel bad if I stay up reading a book until 2:00 a.m. I am okay with eating dinner at 9:00 p.m. I can drink coffee at noon. Throughout the day, I answer emails, write, update websites, craft newsletters, read blogs, chat online with friends, and daydream.
My desk is right in front of a window. I can see the outdoors. In the middle of the afternoon, I might go start some laundry. I might make a kale-apple-ginger-carrot juice at 10:00 a.m. I might have a glass of Lillet while I work in the evenings. I snuggle with the kitty cats. And, best of all, I see Justin throughout the day. I get kisses and hugs throughout the day. I get to hang out with my best friend, every day.
I decided today that it’s okay that I love my life. I realize that I am very blessed to have this life right now. It may be that a year from now, I am back in a cubicle, not seeing daylight for eight or nine hours. I may only have this life for a short time. So I’m going to enjoy it. And I must also accept that we have worked hard for this life, have cultivated it, have earned it, whether it be temporary or permanent. We pay for private health insurance. We work weekends and evenings. We don’t get paid vacation or sick leave. This is the hardest part – believing that I deserve it.
Still, I must get back to my cocktail and work, even though it is midnight. :)