An unhurried sense of time is in itself a form of wealth. – Bonnie Friedman
When you are not working you have to plan the mundane details of your life. You need to set a time and day for each task, giving it room to breathe and stretch and expand. If you go to the grocery store, do laundry, wash the dishes, and pick up the flat all on Monday – whatever will you do on Tuesday? Never mind Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. The days tend to ooze together like some soft gelatinous “thing” or taffy that has been left out in the sun. I take walks around the neighborhood and I read a few chapters in whatever book is waiting next to my bed. I do anything that does not require me to spend money. There is no internet at my flat until the end of the week so I cannot fill my day with endless hours of “missed” television, or read internet articles about the glorious history of the chickpea.
With three more weeks left to fill before I regain status as a fully employed worker bee, I am left with a strange cocktail of emotions. I am one part eager – eager to get back to work and busy myself with my new job and feel useful. I am two parts anxious – anxious about my new school, and a little anxious about all this free time I have been given. I don’t want to waste it, but at the same time – I have no income. Every morning I wake up and swallow that cocktail and try to ease in to the day with a little help from Jacqueline du pre and nescafe instant coffee.
It’s 1:00pm now and I have already gone downtown on a fruitless shopping expedition, done a load of laundry and stopped by the mall to use the free wifi at McDonald’s. I shared a table with a charming Czech woman who thought I was “too nice to be from the UK.” I am going to buy some groceries and then call it a day. And that’s enough for Monday because, like Scarlett said, tomorrow is another day.