I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning. Jon offered to feed the animals and let me sleep, but I just couldn’t do it. I should have taken him up on it, and did later in the afternoon as I napped on the couch.
Tired, tired, so tied my body hurt. But I’ve been on the go for so long, it’s like I forgot how to relax. Even though we have the house set up, I’m still moving furniture around. I go to bed thinking the desk in my office/guest room should be in my studio and wake up thinking the table in the hall should be in the guest room. Then I move them, then I move them back or somewhere else. And what about the stuff left at the old house, the stuff I don’t want to throw or give away but don’t want to keep either.
I lived most of my life in this mode, never stopping, rushing from one task to another and just recently (in the past couple of years) have learned to take days off. It was a dream of mine a fantasy to sit around on a Sunday afternoon and read a book or take a nap in the sun.
It took me all morning and most of the afternoon, but finally, my brain and body gave up. I laid down on the couch with a blanket and finished reading The Art Forger (By B.A. Shapiro, a mystery set around the art heist at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, fun and entertaining) while Jon took care of the animals and fed the wood stove.
So this afternoon was a dream come true. Not one of the big dreams like being a famous artist or winning the lottery, but an attainable dream and one that can happen again and again if I allow it to.