Memorial Day

It’s Memorial Day weekend. 

Growing up that meant going to my family’s lake house – sleeping in a bunk bed, playing cards, staying up to late, waking up early to comb the beach for empty beer bottles to be turned in at “The Beer Store” for the triumphant return of a nickel for each can and a dime for each bottle, and then spending all my winnings on candy.  

This weekend, as I can’t join my family in a weekend of flower planting, cupboard cleaning and an excess of drinking I am staying home.  My one and only goal for the weekend is to rest – and yet, looking at my schedule for the next three days, I’m not sure I’ll have time for a nap. 

Lately I’ve been actively working toward relaxing my commitments – saying no more than yes to things that don’t excite me, and yet, I am still swamped.  “Burning the candle at both ends” as my dad tells me ad nausea.   Is it New York City that does that to people?  We all get so wrapped up in the hustle and bustle that we forget that no one wears a bustle anymore.  Why do we commit ourselves to a million projects when we barely care about half of them?  We run ourselves ragged to pay to live in this expensive angry town, so by the time we climb into bed at night, we’re too exhausted to work on the projects that make us happy.  At least, that’s true for me. 

I need to start scheduling time to comb and clean the beach – or my room and then spend my winnings on candy, or something that I don’t necessarily need, but just want.  Why do we beat ourselves up about buying pounds of bulk gummy bears? We should celebrate that.   Gummy bears need our support.