SeaHeart

Jenn and I have worked every single day, non-stop, inhuman hours, for months with no *definite* end in sight. No human being can do this. We were at a lodge in the mountains with Jenn's parents this past weekend--which was wonderful, but we had to spend the entire vacation working (though there were still wonderful moments, it would have been NICE and RELAXING if we'd treated the vacation LIKE A VACATION). I've been re-reading one of my favorite childhood series, "The Rocky Ridge Series," (it's also sometimes known as "The Rose Years"--a series of books written by Roger MacBride, Rose Wilder's adopted grandson. Rose Wilder was, of course, Laura Ingalls Wilder's daughter.), and I brought the books down with me to read in tiny snatches of moments. I had a lot of epiphanies, strangely enough, re-reading one of my ultimate comfort books for the 1,243,567 time, but one of them was this:

The books chronicle some incredibly hard times, but no matter what, if there was imminent blizzard, or if you didn't gather enough food DEATH may be a possibility, or if there was a raging FIRE, they always, always, always had a day of rest. Even when they were in their covered wagon. A particular line struck me...that even the horses needed a day of rest, because even animals deserve a tiny amount of time to recoup during the week.

Okay. That above paragraph may sound like the most obvious thing in the known universe. But it was like a punch to the gut to me. It has been very, very, very hard these past few months. There have been amazing and wonderful moments, but it's been difficult. We've not given ourselves any amount of freedom or time, because we've felt we didn't have the "luxury" of spending one second away from our work. What this results in is when we take small vacations, we spend the entire time ill or sick, because we've worked ourselves into the ground more than pit ponies (WHY IS SARAH USING ALL OF THE EQUINE METAPHORS).

So I thought about this for a few days, and on the drive back up from the lodge, Jenn and I talked about it. And we were like: yes. We need a day of rest.

This week is one of the most hectic in my life. There's a novel deadline for REASONS on Friday, and I have worked non-stop on this for book for two months (plus more time, but NON-STOP, TWELVE HOURS A DAY for two months). We'd decided, on our drive up, that Wednesday would be what we jokingly referred to as the "Purple Sabbath" of our week.

But...this Wednesday? I was worried about it. Shouldn't I take the entire day and pour over things again? Won't I have to stay up super late on Thursday and Friday to get this done, when I've already been doing this?

And we both decided: you know what? There's ALWAYS GOING TO BE SOMETHING. The Purple Sabbath needs to be as fucking non-negotiable as the tides and the moon phases. Because if it is NOT non-negotiable, we will always, always, always work, instead of rest.

And we need. To. Rest.

So. This is the first Purple Sabbath. I'm sitting in bed writing this post, next to Jenn, who's ALSO writing a post (THE MOST SHOCKING THING SINCE TIME BEGAN, TWO POSTS FROM US ;D). I'm a little happily overwhelmed, in the best of possible ways, with what we could do with this day. The only plan is FINALLY getting to go see this movie tonight at our local crazy-cheap-adorable theater. I also want to head to one of our favorite parks, but in all seriousness, I have ten books on my bedside table that have been giving me sultry eyes every moment of every day, and WHO KNOWS, MAYBE WE WILL STAY IN BED AND READ.

I don't know. But that not knowing is like...the most glorious thing ever.

I was telling Jenn last night: it is a LITTLE SAD when we are overjoyed to the point of TEARS for a SINGLE DAY in which we are allowed to READ AND GO FOR WALKS. But we don't really require all that much in life. A beautiful fall day, spent relaxing with my wife...paradise, in physicality. <3

FURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE SELF EMPLOYED. ;D LESSON SEVEN HUNDRED AND MILLION: SOMETIMES, YOU NEED TO FUCKING REST.

<3 THE END. <3