Monday, for whatever reason, brings ultra-introspective thoughts.
I’ve blogged on this before, but upon standing by my car, talking about introspection on Monday with my delicious boyfriend outside our beloved coffee shop, I decided it was necessary to once again write my thoughts down on the subject of complacency and what that feeling means to our daily lives.
I am going to preface this with: I am happy, idiotically happy to a degree, and I honestly don’t mind. However…
For once in the last decade, I feel stronger than ever. I feel better, accomplished; ready to seize every day and whatever obstacles the universe throws my way are just added to my list of things I’ll tackle with a smile. BUT. This whole nine-to-five thing kills me. I am blessed with an amazing job, but my creative, social bug just wants to get out.
I was brushing my teeth Monday morning, thumbing through my shirts and sweaters, as I normally do, and all I could think was, “I don’t want to go in today. I want to sit outside and write something inspiring.” (though it’s about to rain) This feeling of the don’t-wants comes and goes in waves for me…as everything does for everyone. I can almost guess that the last thing I posted on this subject was three months ago, so I guess I can depend on my melancholy to only surface once a quarter on a Monday.
Instead of trying to put my thoughts together eloquently, for once I’m just going to throw this shit out here in a lazy-girl list because my motivation has been zapped.
Daily Whine List: The Don’t Wants
- I don’t want to adult. Ever. I don’t feel equipped for it, really. What’s worse? Basic life requirements state we must adult on all days, including and most unfortunately, on Monday.
- I don’t want to make my own coffee. I know this sounds incredibly spoiled, but I don’t want to. I always feel rushed and I’m not a “fix the pot the night before” kind of person. I really didn’t appreciate the Keurig when I had it, even though I found the coffee to be mediocre at best. I am that coffee diva that doesn’t bat an eyelash at paying $4.17 or whatever it is for coffee because: I’m supporting local, the coffee is perfect perfection personified every time, AND my kitchen stays clean. I used to think it was excessive, but then I decided that I would have to pay if I didn’t want to suck it up and do it myself…and I don’t want to.
- I don’t want to get up in the morning. I want to lay and bask in the glory that is my full-queen bed that smells like Neil and reminds me of sounds of the beach, because I definitely dreamed of being there.
- I don’t want to get dressed. I DON’T. I want to forever leave my face free of makeup and face wash and moisturizer and just be lathered in coconut oil all day every day. That’s unacceptable, especially considering most times my face is so covered in coconut oil I look like I’m sweating (and I’m naturally so…win-win?)
- I don’t want to wear underwear. I find it restricting and aggravating but do I wear it? Yes……mostly.
- I don’t want to answer any questions. I relish my job for this don’t-want. I’m not responsible for answering anyone’s questions except my own and I adore that.
- I don’t want to spend the money on getting my car serviced. DAMNIT! There are leather pants to be had. (see adulting)
- I don’t want to sit inside. I wish I could plop my entire desk right on the front lawn of our block and work from the great outdoors. NOT POSSIBLE. First of all, I see myself fairing quite poorly in the rain, surrounded by electronics. Secondly, it’s Louisiana, so by the time I got outside to enjoy my work day, I’d be miserable from sweat. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Louisiana girls’ wardrobes are prepared for literally any kind of weather. I’ve been guilty of shorts and Ugg boots simultaneously, and as basic as I may have looked, I was comfortably dressed for the temperature and the event. SO THERE!
- I don’t want to fold or hang my laundry. A little annoying thing called “OCD” (which I’ll never admit to) makes sure that you can always see my floor and that you can always find what you’re looking for in my closet, thanks to the color-coding. But I dream of a world where I walk in my room and my floor is littered with my clean clothes, because I’ve washed and dried them all together and confetti-tossed them as soon as the cycle had finished. I long to not worry about what happened to those jeans and if they’re hanging in the correct spot next to the skirts and I would really really really just love to not think about these things right before I go to sleep.
Note: Yes, I have thought about alphabetizing my closet, but I’ve struggled with how to do it. By brand? Label? Or text? I don’t wear many things with graphic designs. What about my concert/musician tees? Do I hang them in order of who I saw first or who died last or what? See how problematic this is?
I DON’T WANT TO DO IT.
- I don’t want to do anything but write. That’s what this list really boils down to. I have so many thoughts forever swirling around in my head, I need an eight-hour day just to get them all down. I don’t want to do anything but finish the ever-growing list of (now 23) books I’ve already started in my head. I’ve got deadlines, people.
Jumbled in with my half-asleep, tooth-brushing closet endeavor, I thought about the word “more.” I am happy, satisfied, and lucky; blessed for those of you who are careful to use the word, and do so with same reverence as I do. But I want more. Maybe my hunger is a good thing; maybe that’s what keeps me going on the other days of the quarter that I don’t spend griping about how I don’t want to do anything but lay in bed and listen to the rain.