Do my eyes deceive me?
Jun. 10th, 2009 01:34 pmOr am I staring down a week that leaves me absolutely free of commitments save for showing up at work? *does a happy dance*
I have no places to go. No people to see. Kind of amazing considering the fact that I'm usually insanely overbooked. And kind of nice to be able to just go home and relax or do a little writing (haven't done as much as I'd like, but I'm really satisfied with the tiny bits I've been able to squeeze out these last two evenings). Not that I don't enjoy hanging out with folks, but I crave a hefty dose of quiet solitude whenever I've had a long stretch of being really social or busy.
It's been great, but at the same time, it feels really, REALLY foreign. Almost as if I'm getting away with something I'm not entitled to. Last night before I started writing I set my phone within reach on the coffee table, and thought, with the slightest bit of irritation, of how it was bound to go off the second I started to get a flow going. I debated whether I'd feel bad about shutting it off, potentially denying contact to those who might need or want to reach me. And I wanted to kick myself for even making this an issue, because I know it's ridiculous to feel like I'm obligated to be at everyone else's disposal. Or to feel like I can only maintain relationships with friends and family on their terms and not my own. Ultimately I kept the phone on, with the caveat that it was okay to be selective when choosing to either accept calls or respond to any texts. It wound up not going off at all during my writing session, which surprised the hell out of me. It also reminded me that it’s possible to carve out uninterrupted “me” time, and that I need to make a conscious effort to do so more often. I may be in the habit of jumping for the sake of anyone who asks – slightly fearful that they’ll abandon me if I don’t – but that doesn’t mean I have to stay in that mode indefinitely. It’s time I learned to pay better attention to what I need...taking time for myself when the situation calls for that and seeking out company when I’m not so inclined toward being alone.
I have no places to go. No people to see. Kind of amazing considering the fact that I'm usually insanely overbooked. And kind of nice to be able to just go home and relax or do a little writing (haven't done as much as I'd like, but I'm really satisfied with the tiny bits I've been able to squeeze out these last two evenings). Not that I don't enjoy hanging out with folks, but I crave a hefty dose of quiet solitude whenever I've had a long stretch of being really social or busy.
It's been great, but at the same time, it feels really, REALLY foreign. Almost as if I'm getting away with something I'm not entitled to. Last night before I started writing I set my phone within reach on the coffee table, and thought, with the slightest bit of irritation, of how it was bound to go off the second I started to get a flow going. I debated whether I'd feel bad about shutting it off, potentially denying contact to those who might need or want to reach me. And I wanted to kick myself for even making this an issue, because I know it's ridiculous to feel like I'm obligated to be at everyone else's disposal. Or to feel like I can only maintain relationships with friends and family on their terms and not my own. Ultimately I kept the phone on, with the caveat that it was okay to be selective when choosing to either accept calls or respond to any texts. It wound up not going off at all during my writing session, which surprised the hell out of me. It also reminded me that it’s possible to carve out uninterrupted “me” time, and that I need to make a conscious effort to do so more often. I may be in the habit of jumping for the sake of anyone who asks – slightly fearful that they’ll abandon me if I don’t – but that doesn’t mean I have to stay in that mode indefinitely. It’s time I learned to pay better attention to what I need...taking time for myself when the situation calls for that and seeking out company when I’m not so inclined toward being alone.