I have a hard time being still. I’m one of those people who is always in motion, be it mentally or physically, to the extent that my doctor suggested I get tested for ADHD since I kept tapping my foot during my last check-up. (At age 28, I’m just going to go with it.) While I complain about always having to go somewhere or do something, the absence of activity – the INACTIVITY, I suppose – makes me even more uneasy. I function best when I’m going; it’s when I’m being still do I find myself the most antsy.
Coming off of nearly 2 months of travel, I’m relishing this relative downtime. Last weekend, with its sunny gloriousness, was just delightful. Saturday involved long walks with Lila, a (much-needed) late-afternoon nap after a long night prior; and despite Sunday’s horrific Baskbetball tragedy of which I will not speak, good company, good weather, and good food made up for it. It reminded me that I LIVE HERE, that this is my town now, that there are good people here and things to do and it’s HOME. I want more weekends like that, more spontaneous outings and lazy afternoons. I want to stay put.
And yet with my calendar in front of me, not exactly empty but not horribly booked with overseas (or even intercontinental) travel, I find myself staring at the dates and somehow, easily, quickly, they’re getting filled up. Guests this weekend and next, then a wedding, and maybe even Coachella later in April. Trade shows are around the corner, and then Memorial Day and all its glory. (Hi, Bagelhead!) It makes me wonder when I’ll ever feel settled in one place, content in doing nothing and all that it entails. I wonder if I ever will, but in the meantime, I suppose I’m living life to its fullest (or at least rackin’ up the frequent flier miles.)