Slow Sunday Mornings

The last moments of this morning’s dream were focused on a package of fishnet nylons. On the back was an advertisement targeted at Burning Man attendees planning to have sex on the playa in black fishnets and stripper-style ruby slippers — you know, Wizard of Oz. And the slinky body in the photograph was nude, unshaven, and kneeling on a four-poster bed with desert-dusty sheets. I thought, wow, Burning Man is sexy. And then I woke up.

While particular associates of mine are headed to that great wide festival, I am here in Austin on a comfy couch, sipping whisky tea — there is no tea, really, just whisky — and nursing my sinuses after engaging in crazed maple syrup debauchery near the end of the last week or so. It was Marty’s birthday, you see, and nothing would do but maple candy. Delicious, nutritious (!?) maple candy.

So today isn’t the diligent push I originally planned for my Sunday. I’m not particularly awake, I may not really be all that sober. What better way to spend a Sunday morning than in relaxation, speculation and… well, whatever else I can dream up? I certainly don’t need any more “tea”, but one is plenty. Breakfast is turkey and eggplant lasagne, don’t make that face, it’s amaaaaazing. You are jealous of my turkey and eggplant lasagne. You may not know it yet, but you are.

The balance between “life” and “work” is impossible to strike for some of us. That balance doesn’t exist, more often than not. “Life” and “work” aren’t necessarily all that different. But after years of refusing vacation — years, I’m not even kidding — I’m starting to look at my time and think, oooh. Better take a break. An on-purpose break, a refilling-my-reservoir break.

So yesterday I read a lot, and today… I’m just going to take today as it comes. It won’t exactly pay my rent (without a miracle), but it might heal the rough edges on my spirit. And I’m going to need it, whether the push comes today or tomorrow or next week. It pays my rent by proxy, by building me up. We all need to sleep in, now and then. Or to imbibe first thing in the morning. Or to say, To hell with the plan, because I know what I need right now.

And no matter what else is going on, what we need isn’t always to jump back on the workaholic wagon. Or ever, almost certainly. Wasn’t Johnny going on about the value of laziness in entrepreneurship? The man has a point, yo.

Where the hell is my lasagne? I’m starving.

Megan Elizabeth Morris (aka MEM, Megan the M.) is a bonafide professional catalyst and adventurer. She's the Ideaschema instigator, orchestrator and autodidact, and you can find out more about her by clicking here.