Me Time? Really?

by Lisa Donovan

Phew. Today is the last day of my son’s spring break. I know I have mentioned it with great frequency and fervor this week — my apologies if you are tired of hearing about it. In agreement, I am tired of hearing about it. After five days of being in the world of my six-year-old, I am burned out. I need a break. I don’t know if I have ever felt this worn out. I need a spring break of my own.

So, I am making plans. All the good parenting magazines tell you to take “me” time. Hmm. So I brought it up with some other mother friends of mine. What do they do upon this fairytale sounding “me” time? It was a foreign concept to me and I needed some guidance.

Mentions of salon visits and luncheons with girlfriends were the forerunners. Not my style, really. Shopping. Nope. Getting my nails done. Most certainly not. I’m thinking more along the lines of a trip to New York. Of course, that is completely out of the question. The days of whisking away to Manhattan or Brooklyn are long gone, at least for the next few years. My search for this strange land of “me time” is going to be harder than I thought. I am out of practice.

Last night, my husband noticed that 2006 Spring Break had taken its toll on me. I told him about the “me time” theory and he agreed that it was something we should make happen — even if just for an afternoon. I said I just didn’t know how — I felt like a “me time” retard. He suggested that I head out to Bongo Java, our next door coffee house, to sit and relax and then to go from there. I knew I would just end up working (writing) instead of being a self indulgent lush and reveling in an afternoon of no responsibilities. Even though it is what I love to do more than anything, I think an afternoon spent writing defeats the purpose. But maybe not. Maybe being able to indulge in that for an entire uninterrupted day (a whole day!) is my heaven. That makes me such a geek. I came to accept my holy geek-titude years ago, but this is taking it to a whole other level.

Does this mean I don’t know how to have fun or does this mean that I am so in tuned to my inner core that I am an enlightened person? My mom would say that I don’t know how to have fun. My ego would say the latter of the two. I would say neither, just because I am that non-committal. Maybe I’ll just call it a day and take a nap. Ooooooo. A nap. I hadn’t thought of that yet. I’ll have to get back with you about the outcome of this and I promise not to be so cerebrally conflicted about it. Here’s to next time.

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This entry was posted on Friday, March 24th, 2006 at 10:16 am and is filed under Mental Health. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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