Snow shoveling left me sore. Two days this past week, spread over three sessions. One effort to clear the small ridge deposited by the street plow. Not a lot of snow, as much pushing as lifting. But maybe not something a senior citizen should be doing, even if paced. I gave myself credit for an exercise session in lieu of the scheduled treadmill.
The following day, a Sunday, treadmill hiatus day, I took off. Not catch-up. Idle. As every Sunday morning, I mapped out my week, a very long list of activities I aspire to tackling. Then a much shorter list of activities for Sunday, most doable at my upstairs desk in My Space. I did next to none of these. Washed milchig dishes. Retrieved the Sunday paper from the driveway to the front door for my wife. Descaled the Keurig Express-Mini as the guy on YouTube recited the instructions. Made an Aunt Jemima or less offensive new brand pancake for breakfast. More coffee. Filled my weekly medication cases, AM and PM.
Over the course of the day, I had done no mental activities other than some easy crosswords and responding to some r/Judaism inquiries on Reddit, including as abrasive response on adverse day school assessments which pampered my id in some way. No housework other than washing milchig dishes. No Twitter. No significant meal preparation. No quest for my highest level of amusement. No pursuit of my semi-Annual goals, though I did consider places I might like to travel for the OLLI intercession. No exchanges with old friends. Not a whole lot that anyone would judge trying to get ahead.
By mid-afternoon, I felt a little bored so I got in the car, intending roughly the same circuit I would take during the height of the pandemic when all I could do to get away was drive somewhere. This time I stopped at a department store. Strolled the upper floor where they have the non-clothing items, with no serious interest in acquiring more stuff. A half-lap of that floor got me to the escalator. Despite my herb pots being indoors due to a freeze, newly placed lurid patterned men's swim trunks at premium prices had been placed at the base of the escalator on the first floor. I guess people are preparing for their cruise or week in the Caribbean. I'm not. No tour of the rest of the clothing floor, just a straight path back to my car.
Home in time for NFL Divisional games. I didn't really want to watch any whole games, just the final quarters. First game late afternoon, second game after supper. No particular interest in supper.
I keep two logs that I fill out each evening except Shabbos. One is a record of Daily Annoyance. Not doing anything of significance is a good way to not having any personal calamity, though I did slip on the ice sheet outside my front door. No fall, no injury, but recorded in the log. The second journal was titled Hakaras HaTov, or Gratitude for Good Things that day. It really turned out more to a record of three things worthwhile that I achieve each day. Being purposefully idle, I found it hard to come up with three, but on reflection:
- I ate a proper breakfast and lunch
- My remarks of r/Judaism satisfied my id and were helpful to others
- I arose from bed when the clock said to even if I didn't really want to=
There's always at least three. The sun always goes down at the time the astronomers predict. I read my current e-book, three chapters of a classic borrowed from the Hoopla Service offered by the public library. I do not know when it will have its auto-return. And watched the score of the Division Playoff on my smartphone.
After supper, I always outline the following day, which I proceeded to do. Having done nothing of substance, largely by intent, all Sunday, Monday would have to be a lot different. Activities to pursue filled three columns. Some element of my twelve semi-annual projects appears somewhere on this very long to-do list. It is the day I weigh myself and take a waist circumference. I have fleishig dishes from shabbos to wash. It's a scheduled treadmill and stretch day. Time of the month for financial record keeping. And some future projects that have deadlines. The very opposite of my idle day. And more forced than motivated activity. I cannot really say my Sunday downtime left me restored for Monday.
Yet I needed this respite, one day in which I created a Daily Task List as usual but did not get concerned about letting it sit mostly untapped to the right of my laptop while I escaped for one day.
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