In the past year and a half, we have been consumed with stuff we MUST do — buy a house, sell a house, move, fix the dang house, buy stuff, get rid of stuff, etc.. It has kept us busy along with managing to stay healthy during a pandemic. We’re in a bit of a lull now. Some things are done. Some are in progress waiting for the next step. Some didn’t start yet. We have time.
It feels guilty to not do something substantial. No, not like solve world hunger or peace (wish I could!), but something you can check off. You know what I mean. You have that master list and you like checking stuff off. Makes you feel warm inside (or maybe that’s heartburn).
The beloved husband announced yesterday that he feels lazy. He doesn’t understand the true meaning of the word. He is not lazy even if he is catching up on Blue Bloods. He’s always tinkering or online with his guitar buddies talking music stuff. I’ve never seen him lounge on the sofa with his mouth hanging open, all orange from Doritos and a dumb look on his face. (That’s my interpretation of lazy.)
This need for constant accomplishment is the result of many years of working and fitting in what you want to do with what you have to do. It’s years of running a series of errands so you don’t retrace your steps. Retirement doesn’t wipe out years of training. At this point, it’s engrained.
We may move slower and set our sights lower, but we still do them.
I’m not complaining. Those accomplishments, tiny though they may be, give fulfillment. They are followed by a treat, like a mocha or a dinner out (which we would do anyway).
Today we will celebrate the beloved husband’s lazy day with a toast, good food, some TV and an early night. That’s always our favorite.