I’m currently in the middle of some time off between jobs. I’d made myself a long, detailed to-do list of what I wanted to get done during this time, because I simply don’t know when I will get time like it again (unstructured time when I’m not traveling, or visiting people, with a set itinerary in mind), and am currently in the stage where I am coming to terms with my sprawling to-do list being untenable.
There are lots of big projects I feel squarely in the middle of. A complicated sweater that I’ve been working on for a year and a half; various writing projects; ambitious lists of movies to watch and books to read. I’m 900 pages into War and Peace and would like to finish it before my birthday (Leo season fast approaches). I think I can do it; I don’t want to only do that. Who knows! I can’t do just one thing every day and sometimes I wish I could. But I am a chronic dabbler, easily distracted.
It’s been so hot in Massachusetts. I’ve been biking to a public pool a lot this week. Doing a few laps and laying in the sun, then crossing the street to the Trader Joe’s to buy a cold beverage with a ridiculous name before biking home. I’ve started a Twin Peaks rewatch, a Mad Men rewatch. If I put all my energy into one thing I’ll inevitably start resenting it. If I do too many things I end up scattered and unsatisfied. Meanwhile the clock keeps ticking, this rare stretch of free time disappearing into the bottom half of the hourglass.
In the midst of all this, I adopted two kittens. And they don’t care if I’m reading War and Peace, or organizing my pantry. They are running around my room and clawing everything they aren’t supposed to and getting more underfoot than one would think possible. They’re the best: here they are.
That’s been helping, I think. I’ve held off on getting pets with my own because, for most of my post-college life, I’ve lived with roommates’ animals, who I have deeply loved. Through them, I had access to the small annoyances and great comforts of pets. This year, though, new roommates in a new city, we had no pets!
I’ve been relatively unencumbered the past few years, working a remote job and moving two times in two years. I’ve been able to toddle off to various cities to visit friends while working; staying long stretches in places other than my apartment. With an upcoming new job and the new cats, this is going to change. I’m grateful for the tethering, for the responsibility. Though it will lead to new headaches and having to plan more things out in advance, it’s nice to be able to anticipate the shape of the weeks and months to come.
I'll commute into Boston a few times a week! I’ll have cats to feed, twice a day, and a litter box to scoop! In between those things, I’ll keep working on my sweater, and my writing projects, and my to-read and to-watch piles. But when in doubt, when motivation inevitably falls away, I’ll feed the cats. I’ll ride the bus downtown.
It’ll be new, and no doubt annoying, in the way that building a new routine always feels: designing your own rat maze to shuttle through day after day. Feeling the friction of a new route, the novelty and discomfort of it. I can’t do everything, is the cold fact I am confronted with during this time off. I’m looking forward to doing some things, building them into my routines, phasing various interests in and out during my limited free time. (Limitless free time is, shamefully, not good for me). I’m grateful for the time off, to read my big books and go for lazy midday swims at the public pool. And I’m grateful for the new beginning.