Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Lazy Mondays and Losing My Ambition

Mondays aren't generally my favorite day. I know, I know; that's like saying constipation isn't really my favorite feeling, or that my under-wire bra isn't the most comfortable thing I've ever worn. Unless you're in the service industry, Mondays suck. There's no denying it. But when Kyle and I both have the day off, Mondays are like a bonus Sunday, and I think everybody deserves a bonus Sunday from time to time. Yesterday, we took ours. 

Of course, it was still a Monday, and we did have one task to accomplish. Somehow, a bird found its way into my sister's apartment Sunday night. When she noticed it flying circles in her living room, she grabbed her keys — but didn't take the time to put on shoes, pants, or a bra — and fled for our house. In the morning, Kyle and I went back with her, planning to shoo her little feathered friend out with a broom, or at least dispose of the body. But there was no sign of it. However it got in, it managed to get out. (That, or it's time to have a talk with my sister about the dangers of hallucinatory drugs.)

Other than our failed bird-hunting mission, we were able to hang around the house for much of the day, just enjoying each others' company. When evening rolled around and the temperature dropped a bit, we spent some time time tending to our little container garden.

As I practiced my iPhonetography (it's getting a little better, right?) Kyle fired up the grill to make chicken wings for dinner. It might not sound like the most romantic meal, but I first developed a crush on Kyle when I watched a video of him making chicken wings.

Overall, it was a simple, wonderful day, and I want more like it. I guess lazy days wouldn't feel quite so special if I had them every day, but this one did get me thinking about why I work so much, and why I've always worked so much.

I got my first job when I was 14 so I could buy things — name-brand shampoo, Union Bay Jeans, the cool Dr. Martens my friends had but my mom couldn't buy me — and I've never really stopped (working or buying). I'd like to think my tastes have improved with age, but my spending habits haven't. And because I've never been good at managing my money, I've always felt like I needed more of it — sometimes literally to keep the lights on. Sure, I also wanted to accomplish things, and get jobs that would lead to even better jobs, and bigger salaries, and put that really expensive liberal arts degree to good use, but the more money I made, the more I would spend.

As I start to think about moving into a home where we will raise our family, I want to separate myself from so much of the "stuff" I've accumulated over the years (luckily, this Saturday is the neighborhood garage sale). I want to live more simply, spend less time working, and spend more time doing the things that make me happy with the people (and pets) I love.

For now, I'm enjoying being able to handle unexpected visits to the vet, and the fact that I'm at least financially stable enough to almost buy a home. Though it's still very small, having a little cushion in my savings account feels nice, too.

If only I'd had this realization a decade earlier.  

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