Spring Break

I’ve been officially on Spring Break since Friday, so I don’t have to work this week. I have plans to spend the week doing absolutely nothing but editing a book and watering my seedlings. Maybe napping, since I feel like Daylight Savings Time has screwed up my sleep cycle. A bit of dreaming about Spring.

It doesn’t feel like Spring Break. I feel like I could go to work today and college would be in session and I would have office hours today. If I went into work today, I would find myself the only one, facing a locked building. So it’s really Spring Break.

I don’t do nothing well. I hope I can occupy myself with things to get through my Spring Break.

Spring Break Again

It’s Spring Break, and I’m writing and reading.

Writing: two items at once:

Kringle Through the Snow (Kringle #6)
Carrying Light (Hidden in Plain Sight #5)

Reading:

Reclaiming the Balance (Hidden in Plain Sight #3)

And, frustratingly, I don’t feel like I’m getting too far. Sometimes, things go swimmingly, and sometimes they go drowningly.

But First, Rest

I’m on Spring Break, and my brain’s on vacation. What I should do today — writing. Writing something deep on this blog and editing my book. What I am doing — writing something fluffy on this blog and falling asleep sitting up. Quite a feat, yet I keep managing it.

My body’s dropping a subtle hint that I need rest. I posted an article the other day about the different kinds of rest, but I don’t recall it pointing out how to tell when one needs rest. I suppose falling asleep sitting up might be a sign.

Photo by Ihsan Adityawarman on Pexels.com

It’s Spring Break. If I don’t rest now, when will I?

It’s my vacation. If I don’t have fun now, when will I?

I have to write this book. If I don’t do it now, when will I?

It occurs to me that rest trumps writing and fun because I will not enjoy either if I’m tired. This excellent deduction makes me grouchy because I want to have fun (even though we can’t go anywhere for Break because Richard has to work). I want to make progress in my writing. However, my body wants a nap.

I think it’s time to take a nap and promise myself I will do something more lively when I get up. There’s an additional chapter I have to add to the book, and I have a bunch of JD Robb to read for fun. But first, rest.

My One-Day Spring Break

I’m having trouble waking up this morning, probably because this is my long-awaited Spring Break. Yes, my long-awaited one day of Spring Break.

What am I going to do with it? Edit Reclaiming the Balance. Look longingly at a picture of the beach. Nap, apparently. Drink coffee. Possibly make another couple submissions of short story stuff on Submittable. Take a nice long bath and put on a face mask.

But I will not work.

I will not answer a single student email all weekend.

This is my Spring break, and if I cannot have a spa weekend/writing retreat, I will make it a retreat at home.

I need a Spring Break

I have Spring Break next Friday. Yes, that’s it, one day of Spring Break. I understand the reason — the university doesn’t want the students to go out to Palm Beach and bring back COVID. But, ironically, the city has repealed its mask ordinance, and the students are having unmasked parties every weekend.

That week in the middle of the semester was an opportunity for faculty to recharge. Even with vacation spots still risky, we could sit at home and not do work-related items for hours at a time. Not answer student emails for a week. Not attend meetings. Time to write, sleep in, and occasionally do nothing.

There’s no use in complaining about something that was put in place for the right reasons. But the students are burning out, the faculty are burning out, and between COVID and working, I just want a break

Boy, Do I Need a Break!

I get off work at 1 PM today, and after that? Spring Break. Americans don’t get as much vacation as do people in many European countries, and when we do get vacation time, we frenetically spend our vacations going places — usually places in the southern portion of the country where it’s over 60 degrees.

That’s not what I intend to do with my spring break. We have such a paltry train system here that long-distance car driving is the only way to travel distances, and the scene from the interstate is less than enchanting. I’m also not fond of beaches and drunken crowds (which is what happens at Palm Beach, Tijuana, Fort Lauderdale and other southern beach properties.)

If I had the money to travel for spring break, I would travel to one of the following:

Thailand, to apprentice to a fine cook there and eat durian till I’m banned from public transportation;
Vancouver Canada, in the hopes I discover my next career there (not likely to happen)
The British Isles, hoping to secure a non-tourist tour that exposes me to real life.
Somewhere in Europe, but only if invited, and knowing my husband is coming with me.

In other words, I want slice of life, authentic food, and connections with real people.

What will I be doing for Spring Break?

On Saturday March 17, I will be watching the World’s Shortest St. Patrick’s Day Parade and eating traditional Irish faire at the Historical Society. Oh, yes, and celebrating my 11th wedding anniversary (in case you’ve wondered, I’m part Irish (and Welsh, German, Ojibwe, French, Polish, Dutch, Irish) so a St. Patrick’s wedding day makes sense. On the other hand, Richard (although his name is Leach-Steffens) is German and Chinese.

Us, eleven years ago. We get better with age.

On Sunday March 18, we’ll take a trip to The Elms in Excelsior Springs again for a reasonably priced two-day writing retreat. I don’t know if Richard will write, but I plan to work on Whose Hearts are Mountains, the next installment in the Archetype books. (I’m saving finishing Prodigies, a YA novel, until Camp NaNo in April.)
From there, it will be garden work and finalizing my annual portfolio. Not much we can plant now except peas, lettuce, cabbages and maybe root vegetables.

Overall, not exciting. I’ll probably post during vacation (like I managed during Atlantic Hope, Missouri Hope, and New York Hope — nothing can stop me, not even depression)

But here’s a new thought — if you want to, send digital postcards to lleachie@gmail.com. It’s the next best thing to having coffee with me.