Like many people, I
started working at sixteen and never stopped. The two years as caregiver for
Mom as she circled down into the late stage of Huntington’s disease translated
into a grueling 24/7 schedule. I returned to work “part-time” as a substitute teacher
with the idea that I had freedom to adjust my days as I pleased. Even
pre-pandemic, school districts experienced a shortage of substitutes, and I
became a sucker for a plea from a secretary to book weeks in advance. I broke
my vow to “cut back” to only working two or three days a week as my calendar
filled year-after-year.
Then COVID-19 halted
me in my tracks. The spring of 2020 suddenly loomed open and empty. At first, I
reveled in the wonder of having enough Time for anything and everything. I
finished neglected yard and garden projects. I reorganized every closet and
drawer, and ventured into the garage and attics for a purge. I detailed the
cars to a showroom shine. I binged on television and movies, and read
blissfully.
Hours? Days? Weeks?
Months? Tracking time became unnecessary.
Until lack of use
drained the Mazda’s battery!
I realized tracking time
needed a new type of routine other than up at 5 AM, Monday thru Friday to work
all day. Slowly, a weekly sequence evolved. Mondays I designated for ERRANDS
DAY that included a grocery store run and take-outs to support local
restaurants. To avoid draining the car batteries, Tuesdays turned into CAR
DAYS. The RX8 zips down a stretch of highway at 70 mph to keep the engine
purring. Wednesdays shifted to WASH DAYS. That means stripping all of the beds,
tossing in the towels, and tackling our multitude of throws along with our
usual clothing. The tradition of NO CHORE Thursday (started when caring for
Mom) continued to this day. I assigned Fridays for COMPANY CLEANING: bathrooms
disinfected, mirrors polished, furniture dusted, floors mopped. Saturday and
Sunday opened up as free days, too.
My system means my days don’t blur without some kind of “tick” to mark them. I don’t have to remember if I’ve driven the car from one week to the next, or if I’ve forgotten to wash Koi’s bedding. A glance at my phone yields the weekday, and my morning chores fall into place.
Of course, it amazes
me that I finally have too much time.
Copyright 2022 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
No comments:
Post a Comment