The day off

This was it. A day off after several months of parenting, working under pressure, side-hustling, managing the house, and doing all the third shift admin if my life. Finally I get to have some reprieve. A momentary escape.

It was planned. I looked forward to it, after arranging for childcare and making a ton of self-care appointments. Booking a hotel absolved me from putting the kids to bed.

It was fun. I enjoyed every minute of my reflexologist’s skills. I loved the socializing. I loved exploring old parts of my city that were new to me.

I finished up with an after dinner drink at the hotel bar. I looked at different people who had the freedom to enjoy the night out, some were vacationing. I have always envied this level of freedom - I can’t remember the last time I was able to do nothing guilt free.

I left the bar and had difficulty falling asleep. A sudden feeling of dissatisfaction came over me. Why was it that the day off wasn’t good enough anymore? Was it that I was incapable of relaxing? I eventually fell asleep after counting the city lights through the high rise window.

I checked out in the morning in person.

“How was your stay?” the hotel staffer asked smiling.

I wanted to say that overall, I didn’t really need it as much as I thought I did. That freedom from my life of responsibility actually takes me away from my incredibly full life. And that maybe that’s all this day off was good for: to show me how escapism is highly overrated.

“It was amazing” I replied. I walked out the revolving doors excited to go back to my hectic life.