Almost autumn, my favourite time of year, and I am antsy for it, for a number of reasons...
This has easily been one of the weirdest summers ever; not since childhood, that seemingly endless supply of long, lazy drifting days of pleasure, have I been so bored. I have gone into debt to buy new beads and yarn to play with-I have hours upon hours to do whatever I want to do. I am, after all (I keep telling myself) retired, and I can just make stuff to my heart's content, and let the world drift away...but I can't seem to get the hang of it..
Working is, if nothing else, great for self-discipline. Like it or not, you must wake up and get out the door in a regimented pattern, unbreakable for years, except by illness, weather or emergency, which usually results in heightened anxiety rather than rest and recuperation.
Your so called "holidays" are usually filled with the exhaust of all the other vehicles heading for the same holiday location that you thought was your secret hideaway, and when you get there it is packed solid with massive family groups, smoking eating and drinking as rambunctiously as they can for as long as they can til they too have to head back to the city and go back to less hedonistic pursuits.
Now that my whole life can more or less be a holiday if I choose, I find that I am sleeping somewhat later-sometimes til 6:30 a.m.(I still feel guilty when it happens, don't ask me why..).I get up, have a leisurely breakfast with coffee on the balcony, at least until the monsooning starts, then it's on to the computer to see if (what a laugh) I've managed to have a sale on one of my four, yes, four, count em, sites. But, no it turns out that I am really only there to answer e-mails from friends, and not to pick up and pack orders for any of my many offerings.
Does it really matter, in the total scheme of things, that I do or do not sell? Is my retirement only a thinly disguised version of my previous 'career', and is my quest for a lazy dillettante's existence merely a shallow dream?
Um...no, yes, dunno...