Thursday night is boys’ night in our household. This means that my darling spouse heads out, guitar in hand, for band practice and beers with the guys. Boys’ night has been an ongoing thing for most of the time that we’ve lived in our current house, except for a long stretch when hubs broke his leg. I’ve always loved boys’ night because it means my house is empty, except for the dogs. And that means QUIET and UNINTERRUPTED WRITING TIME.
But I have to make a confession. Ever since boys’ night started back up, something happens to me. Within fifteen minutes of hubby walking out the door…I am ready to fall asleep. There’s usually no falling into a groove and production of mass words. In fact, usually it’s a struggle to manage my minimum on those nights.
I have come to a not so shocking realization: I am a workaholic.
SOMEBODY STOP THE PRESSES! I KNOW YOU ARE ALL BEYOND SURPRISED BY THIS NEWS!
Hubby made the observation recently that all I do is work. I’m either at the office working the evil day job. At home working evil day job two (teaching online). Cooking (which is fun, but still work because of my food blogging or making his special gluten free bread). Or writing (also fun, but still work). Or working out (healthy but still WORK).
When Susan recently finished Heroes Til Curfew, she took like 2 weeks off and played video games. My brain started twitching at even THINKING about two weeks off and not WORKING on something. I think I have a sickness. I don’t know how to stop until my body physically won’t GO anymore, which usually results in…not good things happening. Like total mental meltdown.
Where was I? Oh, right. Boys’ night.
So, I am considering doing something really radical on boys’ nights in the future.
Not working. Reading something when NOT on an exercise bike. Watching chick movies or that pile up of shows hubs doesn’t care for like The Nine Lives of Chloe King or Vampire Diaries. Giving my brain one of those things called a break. Relaxing. I think I might have to look that up in a dictionary. Cause I’m really bad at it.