Head in the clouds, body in bed

I'm feeling a bit hazy these days, a little unfocused.

Last week felt like a bit of a frenzy. After not doing much, or at least, not having much that needed doing for quite awhile, I suddenly had several things on my plate -- the editing work, and my sister's visit. I had things to focus on, to work through and around. When I said good-bye to Julie on Monday morning, settled down to work, and then finally handed off the last chapter of the thesis on Monday night, I felt a strong sense of satisfaction and some relief. I felt like I'd accomplished something.

And now I'm resting on my laurels. Yesterday, I spent the entire morning reading in bed. I went to the gym in the afternoon, got some groceries, did the tiniest amount of tidying, spent the evening chilling with McPie, and that was pretty much it. Today, I also spent the morning reading (finishing Late Nights on Air, which I enjoyed, though I agree that the foreshadowing was heavy-handed). I'll go to the gym again this afternoon, prepare dinner (and watch SYTYCDC, of course!) I am on vacation now, having earned one by doing some "real work". But I need to decide when the vacation will end, and what to do next.

Last week while visiting with Julie, I kept getting these little pangs of anxiety. While we were out for lunch and shopping for a crib set, I noted a tingle of stress that seemed to be telling me I needed to be doing something right then. Of course, the message was that I should be at home editing, rather than out gallivanting with my sister. However, when making arrangements for the contract, I made it clear how many hours I could work each day, and this took into account prioritizing spending time with my guest. So I was doing exactly what I should be doing. But it fascinated me to not how strongly the obligation to "do work" and stick to a schedule came on, and pervaded the other parts of my life.

It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, especially because I a) wasn't dreading the work at all; in fact I looked forward to it, and b) I could fit it in when I needed to, around the other things that needed doing. And I felt productive -- like I was contributing to the family effort. It was just unexpected. And kind of inconvenient, because it occurred when I couldn't drop everything and answer to it.

The anxiety, I think came from the feeling that I had an actual, concrete obligation. The contract work, despite having a very flexible schedule, felt like more of an obligation that spending time with my guest, or cleaning the house, and this feelingis definitely directly related to the fact that my work was earning money not just appreciation. Even though, according to all our plans, I don't need to be earning dollars now -- it's just a bonus. But I have not been able, despite my best mental efforts and McPie's ongoing support and coaxing, to dissociate the concept of "contributing" from "earning money".

So, the end of my vacation could entail any of the following: resuming focus on home-making and relaxing before the storm, resurrecting my long-ago plans for self-development, or seeking out more paid work.

I haven't decided. It may be time to be proactive, rather than follow the path with my head in the clouds. I think a list is in the offing...