I am avoiding life right now. Like, on purpose. I shall look back upon this first week of my sabbatical as one in which I did very little in the way of useful things, and a whole lotta reading. A WHOLE lotta reading. I read this (hey Jen, it was the most decent one in a long time!), and I read this and this and this (and I am SO SAD that the author can’t get a contract from her publisher for the next one in the series), and I read this, and I read this and this and this.
At the moment I’m all read out. But oh, what mind-numbing bliss it has been for the past handful of days. There was absolutely nothing improving about my choice of literature AT ALL – I probably killed more brain cells than if I’d smoked a bale of pot – and I’m just plain FINE with that. Bill is concerned that I’m going to be this slothful for my entire sabbatical, then look back upon it at the end and feel that I’ve wasted all of my time off. To be sure, if I did spend the entire eight weeks reading my eyeballs out, I would feel that way. But I’ve reached the natural stopping point in my desire to read, so tomorrow I’ll be motivated to get some shit done.
Tonight, I’ve got some DVR’ed episodes of non-Bill-friendly television to watch (Medium, Stargate Universe, and the season finale of Grey’s Anatomy in which I already know what happens because I’m a spoiler whore). He’s up north for an overnighter in Tuba City. I had the option to go, but… um, yeah. No. I mean, it’s Tuba City. Ain’t NUTHIN’ going on up there. So, he’ll be back tomorrow and by the time he rolls in I hope to have the house cleaned and the oil changed in the truck, at the very least.
I skipped my workout today, but I’ll just work out on my “scheduled” day off, which is Sunday, to make up for it. Since April 4th, I’ve only missed five scheduled workouts in my six-day-a-week routine. I’d probably be doing better if I’d pay more attention to what I stuff in my pie-hole (shut up, Bill), but I consider it a success that I have FINALLY, somehow, managed to prioritize exercise in my life. There are muscles coming in, by gawd! I might actually WIN a future roughhousing wrestling match with my husband, one of these days.
Heh. It’s not like I don’t come out on top as things stand today. He is SO the Kelso to my Hyde.