Laden with Thoughts

George Washington is getting cheated by me today. Although I appreciate everything he did for our country, I’m not spending my Monday off of work thinking about him, or being grateful for him. Nor am I thinking about the good qualities of our other past presidents. Instead, I am thinking about myself.

(It’s not that I’m a very selfish person. This happens to me everytime I have a holiday from work.)

My day off always begins with an inner battle about what time I will rouse myself from the comfortable, warm cocoon I have made with the crumpled sheets and quilt. I think, I don’t need to get up at a reasonable time, this is my day off! Inevitably, guilt shortly sets in due to my disdain for my incredibly lazy attitude and I find myself in a grumpy sort of half-awake state, wishing I could either go back to sleep or get up cheerfully with no regrets. This goes on until a) it’s 11:30am and the guilt has reached an unbearable level, and/or b) i really really need to use the bathroom.

This morning, it was the bathroom reason.

Once I am actually awake and out of bed, a new struggle begins. This second ordeal focuses on my need for a shower and the knowledge that if I do not force myself to take a shower I will most certainly wind up on the living room couch in my mismatched pajamas, watching BBC America and eating stale crackers which have been sitting on a shelf in the kitchen for at least 2 weeks. If, miraculously, I win the battle and find myself showered and dressed, I will half-heartedly clean a few things downstairs. Encouraged by this show of anti-laziness I will then reward myself with some sort of snack and an hour or so of BBC America.

This morning, I did not shower. (I love that show “Ground Force”, don’t you?)

Once I have watched more television than is good for me and eaten something which satisfied my hunger but left me with a tummy ache, I find I have reached a critical point in my day off. Now is the time where I sit on the couch with the television off, stare around the room forlornly, and wonder what is the matter with me. Why don’t I clean up like a good housewife? Why don’t I begin that correspondence class on Federal Regulations I’m supposed to complete for work? Why don’t I (gasp) leave the house and do some grocery shopping? Why don’t I want to do ANYTHING?

On every day off, I always arrive at the same conclusion. I need (no, I want) to be a different person. There are two options for me: I must either learn to sleep blissfully throughout each day and night, or I must learn to get up with readiness and a desire to accomplish something during the day. These are issues I’m praying about. Josh assures me I am not a bad housewife, despite my lack of cleaning and grocery shopping skills.

Did the presidents worry about these things on their days off? Did they ever find themselves, at 3:20 in the afternoon, sitting unshowered at their desk in their pajamas, complaining about their lack of motivation?

Is it Tuesday yet?