A while back, I was out at a restaurant with a couple girls. We try to get together every once in a while to catch up and have a few drinks. In some ways, we’re a diverse group: one friend has two older kids, another friend is single, and the other is married. None of us are in the exact same phase of life and that just makes our little group that much more charming.
The other mom in the group was reveling in the idea of going home to a quiet house. Her kids and husband were out of town until the following day. So whenever girls night out came to an end, she was headed home to a peaceful house to do whatever she wanted. And when she woke up the next morning, she would again savor the silence. Complete, beautiful silence.
Our single friend looked at her like I live by myself and its not that great. Really.
And isn’t that the truth? When you live alone (been there!), the silence is lonely. When you have kid(s) running around always needing something from you, the rare hour of silence is gorgeous. When you’re stuck at home, just a quick run to the used book store makes you feel like a million bucks. (True story.) When you’ve been eating all your meals in your own kitchen, a meal cooked by a chef (and someone to do the dishes!) is the cure. When you have to dress up for work every day, you’d give just about anything to have a day in yoga pants and no makeup.
Variety is the spice of life.
Something outside of the normal will breathe new life in your soul. So the next time you’re feeling burnt out, find a way to spice things up and do something that’s not in your normal routine.
And usually, I’m the biggest fan of routines. But every once in a while, they’re meant to be thrown out the window.
Currently, I’m sitting on my living room sofa at 4:56 in the afternoon having a glass of wine. And writing. By myself.
Yeah, that never happens. And for a few minutes, it’s absolutely glorious.