Bed. Blanket. Books. Or, what I’m thankful for this year.

“Woman Reading in Bed” by Gabriel Ferrier

I’m thankful for many things this Thanksgiving, among them:

  • the fact that I am in a financial situation such that I can afford (albeit barely) to have a cheeseburger for dinner any night of the week;
  • friends and family who have opened their homes and hearts to me to celebrate the holiday;
  • the release of the Keira-Knightley-led Anna Karenina and the option to pick my seat for my preferred theatrical showing ahead of time.

But this year, most of my abundant thanks goes elsewhere: I am so thankful to have the opportunity to do abso-f*cking-lutely nothing.

When I was younger, I was that kid who got bored when school was out. I was itching for school to start again a week into summer break.  Naturally, that spilt over into my adult life: in grad school, I was lower than a snake’s ass during summer and winter breaks. Weekends were depressing. Would the wax/wane cycle of boredom/busyness never end?

Then I started working full-time. At first I was still bored on weekends, but after two years, I’d say I’ve gotten into the groove of things. Loverboy’s 1980s’ hit Working For the Weekend has demonstrated its validity – you know, that people work during the week only so they can pay for their weekend shenanigans or so they have the freedom to do what they want on those two sacred, sacred days. (I always thought it meant people were working over-time. On the weekend.)

It seems to me we spend so much of our time looking busy. Feeling busy. At the “end” of it, I’m not quite sure how much we really get done.

And there’s a point at which the body can’t take it anymore. The mind is pissed off. Our hardwiring tells us: “STOP HUNT WOOLLY MAMMOTH NOW,” and the thought of lying wrapped in a blanket in bed, reading books all day – only getting up to use the restroom and/or eat cookies your roommate has left on the kitchen table – is pretty much life-altering.

It is entirely possible I will be spending Thanksgiving alone, something others might see as tragic. [I’m fine mom thanks] Maybe I’ll regret it later, but for now, I feel like the luckiest girl on the planet, honoring what my body and mind tell me is best for me, and in turn, others.

See you in bed cheeky-head.


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