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Posts Tagged ‘weekend’

By all accounts, the next few days should be good ones. I look at the calendar and see some pretty great things lined up. Add to it the fact that I’m off work for five days and really, there’s almost no chance I won’t have a great time.

There will be time with friends and time with family. There will be a wedding, which probably means dancing, and two nights away from the kids, which definitely means sleeping.  There are enough things to fill the schedule, but also breaks in between for spontaneous trips to the park, or for ice cream, or for a quiet nap under the whir of a gently turning fan.

I’m excited.  And normally at this point I would start imagining exactly how I want it to go; detailing scenes in my mind. My hopes and expectations would be rising, so high in fact that before long they would drift out of reach.  So high that when reality failed to meet my unreachable expectations, it would inevitably lead to feeling disappointed, defeated, disheartened.

Because let’s be honest, nothing ever goes exactly as you hope it will. Plans get changed, weather doesn’t cooperate, words are said and taken the wrong way, silences lengthen from nuanced to awkward , children misbehave, adults misbehave, and basically the universe scribbles all over the beautiful picture I had made in my mind.

And when that happens, as it inevitably does, I feel like I have been wronged; like I am being punished or singled out unjustly. How come these things always happen to me? How come everyone else is having a good time except me? How come nothing ever goes my way? And instead of realizing that these things happen to everyone (they just don’t post the pictures on Facebook), I listen to the voices in my head telling me it’s just me. It’s because I’m me.

But I’ve decided I’m not going to do that this time.

This time I’m going to see what comes. I’m going to leave the expectations at the door and go with the flow, something that I’ve always had difficulty doing. But I’m learning, and I’m trying, and I’m patting myself on the back every little step along the way.  Every time I almost open my mouth but don’t.  Every time I think to make a suggestion about a different way to do something, but I don’t.  Every time I say “no” when what I really want to say is “yes.”

Because I’m realizing that when I fill up every situation with expectations, it leaves no room for pleasant surprises.

And at the end of the weekend I hope I can look back and see a weekend that wasn’t perfect, but rather perfectly wonderful.

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exhale

It’s been one of those days when I feel like I haven’t had a moment to take a breath. My mind racing with things that need to be done and my body frantically trying to keep pace.

Now finally I sit.

A few days off work to make the long weekend even longer. There are things to be done, plans already made, an anniversary to celebrate and family to see, but there will also be time to do nothing. Space in between the pre-set plans for spontaneity, maybe even laziness. A glass of wine on the deck, a meandering chat with a friend, a lazy stroll, holding hands, a few pages of a book, and maybe even a nap. Bliss.

I feel myself decompress, let go of my day, empty my mind, fill my lungs.

It’s the weekend.

Finally.

Exhale.

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The alarm went off at 6:33am, just as I knew it would. The fact that I was expecting it didn’t make it any easier. At first I told myself that I must be hearing things; that it couldn’t possibly be Monday morning already. I paused to listen again and yes, much to my disappointment, that was the alarm.

I reached over to shut it off before it woke up my sleeping husband. I said a bad word under my breath and thought again about how I should have become a teacher, like him, so I could sleep in every day in July and August. I hated him just a little bit in that moment.

I wished it was Friday again. I thought of the week ahead, another week of all the things that have to be done and buried my head down deeper into my pillow. It had been a great weekend, the perfect mix of busy and boring and I wanted more, just one more day and then I’d be okay to get up, to drag myself out the door, to sit at my desk and stare at the computer.

I cursed at myself for not buying a lottery ticket. I could be a millionaire right now. I could be jumping out of bed with the sheer exhilaration that comes from knowing you get to spend the day doing whatever you want.

Maybe one day.

But not today.

I pulled my head off my pillow and swung my feet out from under the blanket and sighed deeply as they hit the floor.

I am up now. It is Monday.

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