Ah, weekends … and the dilemma therein … two days in which to (a) catch up on all those chores or (b) catch up on all that relaxing.  It’s a push-pull routine I find myself in every weekend.  There are things I need to do, but don’t want to do … many of them involve leaving the house which, in this hot late July weather, I am loath to do.  All week long, it’s one rat race after another, so – come the weekend – I’m often torn between wanting to be uber productive with my time or be exceptionally lazy and actually relax.  Yes, I’m aware that both are (theoretically) possible – one day for catching up and one day for relaxing, but I’m terribly easy on myself.  It doesn’t take long to talk myself out of a trip to one of those big box stores for a single item – which, for a change, is more expensive to buy on-line than in person.  I’m so lazy.  The effort to get in the car, make the 15 minute drive, find a parking spot, fight the crowded checkout lines, work through the cryptic parking lot to escape and make my way back home seems so much more than I feel like taking on.  Of course, just look at the way I’ve phrased the task.  Who would want to do that?  Basically, it comes down to not knowing what to do with myself.  There isn’t anything really pressing … laundry’s caught up, vacuuming is done, dishes are in the dishwasher, bathrooms are cleaned … on the flip side, there are book waiting to be read, art projects waiting to be tackled … the missing ingredient seems to be motivation.  I’m reminded of summer vacation, late in the season, when all the camps have been attended, swim club at the Y finished, the result being nothing much to do.

“I’m bored”, my inner child complains.  None of the activities my inner adults suggests seem appealing. I’m still recovering from that broken shoulder which, as it turns out, was actually broken in two places and there is some tearing of the rotator cuff.  Playing the violin is out … I can’t quite manage twisting my left arm to hold the violin properly.  I could study some French, could start an art project, could could could.  It’s not starting that’s the problem … it’s continuing and finishing.  Even writing, I can feel my thoughts wandering like a sluggish river.

Barely one impulse forms before another takes it place … no wonder I can’t manage completing a task … another thought takes over and I go from returning tools to the garage to separating the clumps of iris bulbs.  How did I end up here?  Drenched in sweat and covered in dirt?  It took all my willpower to finish separating and replanting the bulbs, the sense of accomplishment didn’t feel quite as satisfying as I’d have hoped.  I started an art project, but my ability to stay focused on it is being tested and so far, I’m failing the test.  It gets back to the struggle between spending my time truly resting and relaxing, or checking off chores and enjoying that feeling of accomplishment.  What happens is I end up trying to do both and succeeding at neither.