Off and on (my couch)

I started both of my days off last week with twelve hours of sleep. Yup. I slept!

The funny thing about getting that much sleep is that it is almost as disruptive to your brain and body as not getting enough sleep.

After so many days and weeks of not getting enough rest, however, I am not complaining. I relish the opportunity to shut off for a couple of days.

That's not to say that I merely lounge around. I get up. I shower. I cook. I clean (a little bit). I even managed to do three loads of laundry, three loads of dishes, cook up three recipes of beans, cleaned out the fridge, and ran errands for and spent quality time with Grandma.

For those who know me, you know I cannot stay still for long. A few years ago, I had a low-grade fever that lasted for weeks. My doctor never quite figured out what it was, but to make sure I didn't give whatever it was to anyone else, I worked from home. It was miserable. Finally, I just stopped taking my temperature and eventually it went away, most of the time. Around that time, there was also a storm that shut down the city for four or five days. After three days of not leaving my modest suburban homestead, all 1/5 acre of it, I had a raging case of cabin fever.

Despite warnings, I managed to maneuver my AWD Suburu up steep hills to venture to a Michael's craft store across town for whatever it was I just had to get that day. Several icy patches later, I made it there and back and decided to stay put in order to avoid any further near collisions with untested winter drivers.

I cherish my time off. I rarely feel like I'm missing out if I don't go to a show or a party. My daily life is full of people, full of being on, full of maintaining an emotional high, a smile and a friendly word. In my downtime, I feel confident in curling up, taking a nap, putting on a pot of something comforting to simmer on the stove and sliding my feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers.

I used to be horrified by my mom's nightly routine when she came home from work. She would go directly to she and Dad's bedroom, put on her slippers and robe and commence with putting dinner on the table. I didn't understand then the importance of shedding evidence of the day, of the need to physically change your clothes to signify the mental shift to home life from work life.

I get it now. I embrace it. I also embrace my worn out yoga pants I've been wearing since 2003, especially when I have no intention of doing yoga while donning them.