Well, the weekend continued to go quietly. Got some groceries. Did some cleaning. Watched a show. Took a nap. Did some laundry. Listened to a cd I haven't listened to in a while.
It occurred to me that I wasn't looking forward to the week, but I wasn't not looking forward to it -and that reminded me that just the other day I was talking to a teenaged client who said he hates the weekends because he can't work... and I spent 40 minutes trying to get him to google things to do.
So I took my own advice. There are a lot of summer festivals coming up in St. Paul. There are some museums I could go to. Some parks. A few things I might want to do on my own, others I could invite someone to.
I didn't do any of them. In fact, I looked at my next weekend and saw that I had nothing, when my Brother texted and asked if I could help out with a kids birthday party. And I said, hit me up if you need me, but wasn't enthused. I didn't reach out to anyone. Barely said Hi to my mom (who was out of town).
There is sort of a love hate of people I guess. I didn't want to leave the house much today. Could have sat outside and read a book or something. Could have gone for a walk. Could have sat at a coffee shop and done some writing.
There is a weird thing about life... no right way to do it, but I found myself bored with my own life, and then wondered why I was unwilling to do something about it. How strange.
I think I might be the world's biggest complainer.
The week looks pretty easy work wise, 4-5 clients a day.
A thing for my brother on Thursday, picking up a friend at the train station Friday. Maybe this kids party Saturday.
Church Sunday? same old chores, same old routine.
I should start playing board games at a store, or join an art project that I don't have to do anything but show up, or take a writing class... Something...
I guess its bed time.
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