Blue-Footed Musings

I haven’t done nearly as much with my vacation time as I had hoped I would. I allowed myself to be distracted by Facebook and Twitter and the events of the outside world. Maybe that was inevitable, but that doesn’t make it OK. I must separate myself from social media and the news more often in the future. It’s not doing me any good.

My mother visited for a few days. She came because she wanted to go clothes shopping for the kids. We did that, and very successfully. While she was here, I spent a lot of time just sitting around with her in the dining room, she on her computer, me on mine. This is how we spend time together. Maybe it’s not the best way, but it is our way. We also ate meals together, all five of us. We went on a book-shopping expedition. We played many rounds of Uno, which was fun. The kids especially enjoyed it.

I could blame both the social media and my mother for my failure to get much done during my time off from work. The snow on the ground didn’t help with my plans to check out some new hiking areas. But the truth is that I didn’t feel like doing much. Maybe sleeping late and doing very little was just what I needed. Sleeping late sure felt nice.

The thing that bothers me is that my vacation is almost over now, and I feel like I could have used my time better. This thought could not have been brought home in a more profound way than by finding out that one of my coworkers died last week. Stupid me, I had to check my e-mail yesterday, so I got the sad news sooner than I ought to have. I did not know him well, but he was part of my life, and now there is a hole in my Universe where he existed for over twenty years. He was elderly, so no one could say that he didn’t get his fair allotment of time, but that doesn’t make me feel better about the idea that time does eventually run out.

I suppose I shouldn’t be too hard on myself, though. It’s not like I didn’t do anything with my vacation time. In addition to the things I already mentioned, I played my piano almost every day. I shopped for and bought new shoes, which I needed. I explored a new bookstore. I wrote some blog posts. I went through my memory boxes and threw away everything that no longer spoke to me, and now there are two fewer boxes taking up space in my closet. I read more of my book about Herodotus, and I will probably finish it within the next few days. I did some cleaning and laundry. I watched a movie with my husband. I worked on my annual photo album.

I also scheduled a two-day family getaway for later this year. That will be a good use of my future time. The kids will be so excited when they find out. For now I’m keeping it a secret. I may not even tell them where we’re going until we get there. I want to see the look on their faces when they realize where they are.

I have three and a half days left before I have to go back to work. I need to decide how best to spend that time, so that will be my next mission for today. I’m going to go do that now.

A little doppelganger of my husband sits on my shoulder while I’m clothes shopping. I pick up a shirt in a pretty shade of blue-green. “No teal!” the little husband hollers in my ear. I move along. Next I find something in gray. “Too drab,” he objects. “You should wear brighter colors.” I move along. Soon I spot a comfy-looking sweater. The little husband gets apoplectic over that one. “That’s something your mother would wear!” Is that such a bad thing? “It is!” So the little husband steers me toward a more form-fitting sweater, but he nearly flips on me when I reach for the blue-green. “I said no teal! Try the brown.” I hesitate, because he did just tell me to wear brighter colors. “It’s OK. It goes with your hair.” He’s right. It does.

He’s devil-hard to please, that little husband on my shoulder, but he’s not so bad. He has good taste. And he doesn’t say a word when I stop in the jewelry section and pick out a jeweled butterfly pin that I’ll probably never wear. He knows how much I like sparkly things. He also doesn’t complain about being dragged from store to store. He’s actually a pretty good shopping companion, all things considered.

I make my purchases and bring them home. I tell my real husband about how his doppelganger was with me the whole time. I think maybe he’ll say that it’s crazy. Instead, he says, “I know exactly what you mean. There’s a little doppelganger of you that goes everywhere with me!”