Refilling the Well

I TOOK THE DAY OFF FOR ONCE. And I don’t mean from work, although I do that more than I should do too.

No, today I took the day off after work.

I didn’t make phone calls. I didn’t rush to Dale’s right after five, or watch a movie as planned with mom. I didn’t bother my sisters, or visit with Grams. I decided tonight would be a night to myself. No running errands, no doing favors, no doing chores.

This odd mood all started when a department at work was going to see Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. They extended an invite to me and the first thing I felt was excitement. The second was guilt. Who would I have to ask for permission? Would my family care? Would Grams watch Ollie? What time would we be back? And the calls! Oh the calls to be made to arrange a few hours to myself. I caved. I backed out. Besides, I convinced myself, someone might need me.

On the way home, I called Grams asking if I could go get a haircut. I texted all three of my sisters asking them their opinions on the matter. Once two of them had responded, I knew my answer – and it had nothing to do with my hair.  My short “yay or nay to short hair again” question was actually a version of “who should I be?”

I began to realize I’d hit a point where I couldn’t make my own decisions of what to do with my day, and I hated it.

The only way to remedy this was to have a day alone, to experiment.

I try my hardest to be a giving person, and make everyone happy. A day to myself just felt so selfish, and my eyes brimmed with tears just thinking about it. But why SHOULDN’T I spend time to myself? I’m constantly telling people that in order to make others happy, you have to be happy yourself, and I definitely wasn’t feeling that. I needed to take my own advice for once. Find out what Aubrey wants, without any other factors. Find out what Aubrey’d eat if she had the time, what shows she’d watch, where she would want to go. I had to look at myself as another person to even consider the idea.

I arrived home and grabbed a towel off the floor and changed from business lady attire to a swimming suit and flip flops. I left my phone inside and just relaxed, laid out in the sun. I planned on eating the junk food that was in my cupboard with reckless abandon. I tied my hair up, wore my rattiest clothes and ran in the field with Ollie like no one was watching. I ate ice cream straight from the carton while watching shows about people who didn’t know they were pregnant, and people who shed hundreds of pounds of weight.

Which gets me thinking. Is it possible to have such thing as an ice cream belly? I’m feeling one right now.

But I’m feeling something else. Content. At peace. Slightly happy. Sometimes a little TLC to myself is just what the doctor ordered.