I seem to have become a pro at being unproductive. Seriously, people, I'm starting to scare myself.
I can no longer point my finger at the mid-semester slump (in fact, did I make that whole idea up?). School is coming to a close very swiftly, and I'm anxious about the downward slide. Will I be able to keep up? The pace only seems to be picking up as I'm slowing down.
Where did this weekend go? I started doing homework Friday afternoon but was rescued by some friends who called in search of a pan for cheesecake. I answered their plea, and the three of us set out on a grand cheesecake-making/apple-eating endeavor.
My Saturday simply disappeared. A fifteen mile run in preparation for my marathon cut out four hours in the middle of the day, followed by an essential grocery store trip, granola-making for the week, dinner with June, and an early night in kind consideration of my exhausted, aching body.
Now it is Sunday night, and I have less than half of what I wish I had done this weekend accomplished. I wish I could just slow down time, but I know I'm not being the most efficient with what I do have either. I could take fewer study breaks; I could not be writing on this blog right now; I could have skipped making the pancakes I did this morning (though I certainly wouldn't have been doing schoolwork that early in the morning!) or any other time-consuming meals. "Time-consuming" is very relative, though, and putting in half an hour maximum for a good meal is very worth the minutes to me.
In my defense, I need study breaks to keep my vision from going fuzzy or my artwork from getting sloppy but should be more disciplined about them. I need to allow myself time to crazily type away at the keyboard and get my frustrations out. And I need yummy, nourishing food that stops me in my busy day and demands that I slow down and take in that which is around me and going into me.
Yesterday Highway 351 and cold soba noodles did that for me. Two friends and I jogged out nine miles, across two county lines, encountering nothing but simple homes, mostly-brown fields, and the occasional horse. The plan was to do eighteen miles, but as I hit about fourteen my nagging injury from high school cross country flared up and after another mile I made the decision to stop and walk the rest of the way. Being forced to slow down also compelled me to more fully take in the scenery around me. Those houses had character. Some of those fields stood out from the rest in the most brilliant of greens. And those small mesquite trees were indeed a precious few, often only one to a pasture. I love being surprised by beauty.
Some other beauties from this weekend are, suitably, food related. The soba noodles I mentioned above were June's, and to sit across from each other with chopsticks in hand, a bowl of broth to ourselves, and a larger bowl piled with noodles in between and feast across cultures and languages and lives was entirely rewarding.
This morning my family recipe for whole wheat pancakes brought May, June, and me together again. Lunch was eaten on my own, but as I gazed out the window and slowly bit down on each soft piece of gnocchi flavored with a basic cream and blue cheese sauce I was able to sigh in gratitude for a sun-filled day and bountiful fridge.
My point in writing this post was not simply to procrastinate further but to express my frustrations and ultimately remember all the good that I'm still being given in my life, even if I'll pay the consequences for being less productive this weekend with fewer sleeping hours in the coming days.
So it goes...I'm still learning and relearning and will continue to do so for the rest of my life.
Monday is almost here - I've got nineteen more minutes - and before I call it a night, I plan to get some poetry reading done I should have completed hours ago.
I hope you find peace in this coming week.