Here in New York, it has rained for something like the past eight weekends, Constant Reader. Like clockwork, every Friday the clouds darken, a little drizzle starts, and then come Saturday there is a steady blustery precipitation – nothing anybody would want to go outside in. My work week runs from Sunday thru Thursday, and Fridays are my day for running errands. So, exhausted by the week’s activities and deterred by the rainfall outside, my Saturdays of late have consisted of me, sitting at my desk, my laptop in front of me and my cat curled up next to me as I’ve wiled away the hours, barely stirring at all.
I feel guilty about this.
There is, after all, so very much to do, so many things I’d like to try and accomplish. I’m a theater artist, after all – my pursuits involve getting people together to rehearse and perform some exciting fiction before a delighted audience. To spend my one free day alone, sitting at my desk, seems like such a massive waste of time. And this Saturday, having done this for several Saturdays in a row, I found that sense of waste particularly overwhelming.
Of course, in the course of that day –
I finalized the casting for the coming week’s Tuesday reading series.
I went through submission opportunities for my existing drafts.
I fielded a potential offer for one of my short plays (which probably won’t come to anything for a variety of production issues, but one never knows).
I finalized the notes and outline for the next large project I’m tackling.
So, I do realize that I’m not actually wasting anything. Probably the opposite, when it comes specifically to time management. But that lingering, dreadful sense of time slipping away does tend to linger. Much like rain clouds on a Saturday afternoon.