Down Time

A real, honest-to-goodness day off is, for many of us, but a fantasy. There’s always obligation of some sort that intrudes: laundry, errands, parenting duties, social engagements that seemed like a good idea when you committed, work from the week that seeps into Saturday. A day with nothing scheduled becomes, too often, a fertile expanse within which all the undone things from the week will get done.

Sometimes, though, you find yourself with a truly empty day, one in which you’re determined to do as little as possible and your productivity compulsion is quiet enough that you can actually just be. “What do I want to do right now?” you can actually hear yourself ask yourself. “Lie in bed and watch old episodes of ‘High Maintenance,’” you might answer, and next thing you know, there you are, under the covers at 10 a.m., actually watching TV, like a person who understands the power and value of true leisure.

If you’re anything like me, this feels indulgent, delicious, for about 45 minutes, maybe an hour, and then the uncomfortable feelings set in. Some gross admixture of guilt, restlessness, FOMO, maybe even boredom. You feel like the kid who stayed home from school when she wasn’t really sick, lying on the couch watching “The Price Is Right” as a dusty beam of sunlight streams in. What made you think this level of laziness would feel restorative? Whose idea was this anyway?

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