Sunday was a good time because I had some me time, and it’s felt like I haven’t had that time in a long while.
I didn’t do much. I wrote, and then I went for a walk. I took some pictures on my Polaroid, I took a nap.
Not exactly exciting, but definitely necessary.
I’ve just felt kind of spent lately, like I’m always driving around doing this and that. Picking something up, driving someone somewhere, remembering I have something else that needs to be done.
So it’s nice to have some time for me, even if it isn’t exciting. I tend to do that a lot, pile on a lot of responsibilities that aren’t necessarily mine. I don’t know why I feel like I have to be responsible for certain things, or responsible as a whole. I joke with people sometimes that I was born responsible; I always tend to think ahead on how my actions will affect other people. But I’ve started to realize it isn’t just how they’ll affect others but how I think it will affect people seeing me.
And why should I care about that?
I shouldn’t, but that’s easier said than done. Why should I care if I drink in front of people I know? Why should I care if I dye my hair a crazy colour? If I travel alone somewhere? Why should I care what other people think?
And why am I making myself responsible for everything?
I am slowly starting to “let loose” (as the kids say) and that’s also easier said than done. It’s hard to get out of the mind set of thinking ahead. Of thinking what I need to do and how to fit it all in my schedule when really there’s a lot of things I don’t need to do, a lot of chores and tasks that aren’t really my responsibility. And I really need to stop thinking about how people react to the things I do, the decisions I make.
What is there to be afraid of?
But for not I’ll try taking some baby steps. Try giving some of the responsibilities I put on myself onto other people, share the load and give myself some time to do what I like. It might not be a lot, but it’s something and I guess that makes it important.
(Polaroid pictures are my own.)