There’s something very exciting about leaving your house before the sun comes up and driving down a dark highway. There’s something markedly less exciting about being so exhausted at 12pm that you seriously contemplate pulling a George Costanza and curling up under your desk.
Work has been really (really) busy this week and it strikes me as ludicrous that it’s only Wednesday. At least Thursday feels like something substantial. Like, hell yeah, it’s almost the weekend. I DID those four weekdays. But here we are, Wednesday.
All the busyness has drawn my imagination to fictional vacation days. I actually tried to take a “mental health” vacation day last week and it resulted in being pulled into a quagmire of work-related trouble-shooting. Bad job, Erin.
My imaginary vacation day goes like this:
6am – Wake up, look at the clock, relish this moment, go back to sleep
10am- Actually wake up. Coffee. Breakfast.
10:30am – Start writing. Write write write. Write.
12pm – Sushi for lunch. YES. Sushi for lunch. Also, during lunch I watch Ghost Adventures or Paranormal State on demand or Netflix. This, friends, is pretty ultimate. Spicy tuna roll, please.
1pm – Write. Write more, write. Feel good about writing. Write.
2:30pm – NAP. HUGE FAT NAP.
4:30pm- Start making dinner for my husband because I am an awesome wife and in this fictional day, I totally nail dinner.
5pm on – Bask in the praise for my amazing dinner. Also, brag about my word count for the day and then watch Game of Thrones with my husband.
I have hope that someday I can make this dream a reality. Maybe I should pick a day now and claim it….