Oh, Look, A Sunday

It's shaping into a Frank Sinatra kinda day. I'm keeping to myself after a demanding week. Cleaning up after neglecting things with 12 hour days this week.

Today's the first day of knowing it's the beginning of a new phase. It's nice. I'm writing more. I like this.

And tonight I'm going to cook, really cook, for the first time in a while. Trying something completely different. I'll be making creamy orzo with steamed vegetables along with honey-lemon claypot-roasted chicken. Sounds nice, doesn't it?

When I write, I cook, I listen to music, I slow down and watch more when I'm out in the world. I get an acute perception and have this knack of anticipating things. Everything clicks. It's not this way very often, but I feel it coming on again. And to top that off, it's looking like we've got an Indian summer this fall.

And my birthday's right around the corner. The older I get, the better I figure things out. I'm liking this age and experience thing. 34. The last year of the Coveted Demographic - 18-34. Ha. Bring on 35 to 44. Brave new horizons, I guess. But 40's the new 30 and all, so I'm not worried.

Cooking! Something new. I haven't used this clay pot in a couple of years. Maybe as many as four years. Honey lemon... and I'm throwing in some garlic, too. Garlic-lemon stuffed cavity. And steamed vegetables... well, I think I'll throw a little spaghetti squash in there, but roast it first.

Ah... Time to take a little more time to myself. Time to re-read In Praise of Slow: How a Worldwide Movement is Challenging the Cult of Speed. Life kind of got away from me in the recent months. I have come to really notice the distinction between living to work and working to live, and I never, ever want to be the former. Not if "work" means a 9-5 grind under bad lighting and constrictive management. I want to work only so much as I need to in order to live. For now, the goal is to be able to cut back to 30 hours of work a week. That'd be perfect. Three long days, more than 50% of my week belonging to little old me? Yeah, that's the ticket.

Right now, I want no responsibilities. I want only to have control over my lifestyle and a very, very clear line between my private world and work. Jobs should only extend so far. Or we should at least get to decide when they're going to encroach on the rest of our lives, y'know?

The interesting thing about this job scenario, too, the quitting and returning thing, is it's the first time in a few years I've really had control over what happened next. I quit. I pursued my old job and made the choice to return. I chose. I came to that proverbial fork in the road and chose what I wanted. Feels pretty fucking good, and it's hopefully setting the pace for all that's about to come.

Girl could get used to this.