Nurse the Hate: Hate Rest
I was speaking with a woman today that is convinced that the
source of most of my ills are primarily based on the idea that I am not "resting"
enough. She is quite smug about it
actually. Meanwhile I am quite convinced
I spend too much time unproductively and need to press to get even more
accomplished. It’s a bit of a stalemate
between us actually. I think her position is based
on the idea of happiness is doing nothing, sort of lounging around like a well
fed house cat. Meanwhile I like to do
things so I can have a brief moment of happiness in what I have accomplished. Then it is time to move ahead once again. If you are not moving ahead, you are falling
behind, no?
My friend Oliver is a big proponent on the “very tight
schedule” concept. Oliver is German, so this is not surprising. I can’t ever recall
Oliver not having a “very tight schedule”, even while relaxing. (Say with German accent) “We will stop for a beer and relax for a
moment.” (checking watch) “But we will have to leave soon! We are on a very tight schedule!” This is the sort of Germanic style of relaxation I
have really come to enjoy. If there is
time to enjoy three activities on vacation, the key is to plan four in that
time span and somehow get them all done while being stressed out trying to cram
them in. The idea of “fun” is irrelevant
next to the responsibility of maximizing your time. I remember asking Oliver, “Would you ever take
a few days at a beach resort and just relax in the sand?”. He decisively provided the most German answer
one could ever hope for… “Impossible.” He shook his head after thinking about it
again. “That would be impossible. It makes NO SENSE.”
I explained this Germanic idea to the woman, mostly to
provide a contrast in myself while passively aggressively suggesting that Oliver is the one with a problem, not
me. This only served to reinforce her
position that I am going to burn out like a comet . Furthermore, to have a sick person
like Oliver in my life is like Dee Dee Ramone having Johnny Thunders as an
enabler. “You need to take a few days
off and re-charge!” Of course I said it
was “impossible” until an idea flashed into my mind. I very quickly began to scheme an impossible travel scenario involving border crossings with frayed documents, red eye flights, poorly planned accommodations, and almost no prior research done beforehand. It would be one of my patented "show up and see what happens" ideas that is guaranteed to at least be memorable. It was probably the exact opposite of what this woman would have suggested as "rest". I decided to keep this to myself while she explained the travel scenario she thought I needed, which oddly enough would seem to mirror her dream travel scenario instead of mine. Eh, what are you going to do?
I climbed in my car and relaxed by blasting some Zeke at a volume that threatened to loosen my dental work. I pulled into the driveway and that same little girl with the missing teeth rolled over unsteadily on her Rollerblades. "Why do you listen to music so loud?" I like it. "Why?" I like to feel it rip through my skull. "Oh..." She scrunched up her face and very dramatically looked up at the sky. "Do you know what?" What? "Wishes don't come true." Really? "Yes. Do you know how I know that?" No. Why don't you tell me. She responded in one breathless sentence. "Before I was going to school for the first day and they told us what teacher we had I went to bed every night and wished and wished and wished for Mrs. Simmons but then when I went to the school I didn't get Mrs. Simmons." Who did you get? "Mrs. Colbert" she said with a dramatic frown. She looked back up to me. "Now I know wishes don't come true." I stared at her for a second, sort of disarmed by the brutal honesty of her statement. She stared back before I answered. "It took me a long time to figure that out kid. You want this soccer ball I found at the park?" OK! She lit up and skated home unsteadily with the soccer ball. I went inside.
I didn't "rest". I typed this.
I climbed in my car and relaxed by blasting some Zeke at a volume that threatened to loosen my dental work. I pulled into the driveway and that same little girl with the missing teeth rolled over unsteadily on her Rollerblades. "Why do you listen to music so loud?" I like it. "Why?" I like to feel it rip through my skull. "Oh..." She scrunched up her face and very dramatically looked up at the sky. "Do you know what?" What? "Wishes don't come true." Really? "Yes. Do you know how I know that?" No. Why don't you tell me. She responded in one breathless sentence. "Before I was going to school for the first day and they told us what teacher we had I went to bed every night and wished and wished and wished for Mrs. Simmons but then when I went to the school I didn't get Mrs. Simmons." Who did you get? "Mrs. Colbert" she said with a dramatic frown. She looked back up to me. "Now I know wishes don't come true." I stared at her for a second, sort of disarmed by the brutal honesty of her statement. She stared back before I answered. "It took me a long time to figure that out kid. You want this soccer ball I found at the park?" OK! She lit up and skated home unsteadily with the soccer ball. I went inside.
I didn't "rest". I typed this.
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