Not Having Fun

Last week, our children were visiting.

They went off skiing for the day.

Fun.

I paid some bills.  Went to the grocery store.  Cooked. Set the table.

Which I don’t mind doing.

But I wouldn’t call it fun.

My friends are often out having fun too.

A lot of outdoor sports.  Crafts. Things they like to do.

But I was raised with the idea that fun was for evenings and weekends.

Not during the day.

You don’t nap or read a book or catch a tv show during the day.

You work.  And if you don’t have a job, you stick to your to-do list.

That’s what I do.

Focus on my to-do list.  It’s my guide.

I mean, after all, there’s satisfaction to getting things done.

Right?

But my friends that are out playing, are also get things done.

Which is irritating.

Remember that old saying, “if you want something done, give it to the busy person.”

So, I’m considering changing my ways.  Minimizing my to-do list.   Or my adherence to it.  And focusing on having fun.

During the day.

I just have to figure out what fun is.  And be ok with that.

I no longer ski. I never could knit.  I don’t paint.  Quilt.  Or ice skate.

The things I like to do border on entertainment.  Are a little embarrassing.  Like watching movies. And plays. And listening to lectures.

Going to museums and galleries.

Hanging with my friends.  Eating.

And, of course, writing.  I love to write.

But right now I’m not writing a book or movie.  Nothing admirable.

I’m just writing about little things I see.  Odd things we don’t usually talk about.

So somehow I have to leave the work ethic on which I was raised, and spend my days doing these things I like to do.  Even if the things I like to do are a little less ambitious than what some others like to do.

After all, I’ve always said I’m a good object at rest.