So That's What Silence Sounds Like
Back from a rather relaxing weekend. I went up to the Devil's Lake/Lake Delton/Baraboo area for three nights. Spring break started on Friday, and I decided that rather than fight the good fight against my horrible neighbor and her psycho friends, I'd just leave. Because the idea that this isn't a break for everyone and that some people might still have to work and study and write papers---that idea wouldn't occur to them.
Not that I did any of those things this weekend. I intended to. I filled up my car with books and notes and various items needed to do the things on my to-do list. And I carted all those things up to the hotel room.
And then I ignored them. Because cable television is the devil's plaything. And a quiet room on a rainy day makes naps entirely too irresistible.
That said, I did get some very important things accomplished: I slept a full nine hours for three nights straight. Woohoo! I took Rowen and myself out for a couple of long walks in the woods. I treated myself to a couple of long, steamy bubble baths. I drank an awful lot of wine. And I chilled out a whole lot.
Now it's back to the grind: preparing for two symposiums, writing two papers, reading for class, and packing the apartment. I never realize how much stuff I have until I have to pack it. I feel like I live simply. But then I try to put everything in boxes and have to admit that I have way too much. Mostly books and craft supplies. I also have several large suitcases of clothes that I haven't unpacked in nearly a year. Despite much good advice and my own commonsense, I refuse to get rid of any of those clothes because someday, really, I will be a size 8 again. Ha! Just like someday I'll read all the books that I've intended to read. And finish all the craft projects that I've intended to finish.
I think I'd like my epitaph to read: She had good intentions.