What do I want to be in my *off time* when I grow up?

I’m still writing every day even if it’s not here. I decided I should let myself have days off posting and then that snowballed. But that’s what I needed and I leaned in.  

I’m tired of thinking about what I want to be when I grow up. Ugh. What do I want to be in my *off time* when I grow up? What do I want to do after I get home from my job? I want there to be nature and fresh air and sky and quiet, stillness that has a rhythm. I want there to be nights of no plans, of just whatever. 

 I got home today and went immediately to the stove to get my pans heated for tacos and grilled veggies and rice. I poured myself an icy drink and put on a playlist and got it done, and all the toppings! And I unloaded the dishwasher and the sink is currently empty. (Note: 90% of the time Noah does all the dishes and this is only exaggerating in the way that he probably does them more often than that.) So I felt extra good for doing that so he didn’t have to! 

Now I’m doing what I want to do. Stretched out on the back porch sectional on my stomach just not having to use my brain, free writing away. Maybe read a couple pages of the book I’m reading. The kids want to watch another episode of Stranger Things with me later. I almost asked them if I could play a game on my phone while we watch but I’m going to put my phone away and enjoy our time hanging.  

There will be a day when I grow up, when the kids have, too and I won’t have to make dinner right away when I get home; it can be whenever I feel hungry because they won’t be here, and I can do literally whatever I want or don’t want to do. I can’t even think of anything, because just doing nothing at all sounds so dreamy why ruin it. And if it’s nothing anyway, it’s not important. I don’t have to worry about future regrets and that’s important to me in the stage of life I’m in right now. 

 I don’t need to soften the edges; you learn how to move around the jagged parts, it can be quite beautiful- that dance Sometimes I can picture a switch that detracts the claws from the corners of my mind, 
but the edges are always there.

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