Free time - #113
Learning to enjoy what is thrust upon me.
I’m not very adept at taking advantage of large chunks of free time. Like many good Americans, I spend it worrying. Left my abusive job in the Caribbean to hang out on sailboats with hot guys from all over the world? Worried. Took an intentional four-month break after leaving my job at Headspace to just enjoy life? Didn’t. Had a month between finishing an old job and starting a new one? Sheer panic the new one was somehow a prank.
Careening toward the end of my 30s with a life-sucking pomegranate in my body, I am now acutely aware of this time wasted. And I am thinking on it because I am once again presented with it. In case you haven’t been reading closely, my most-favorite, dream-of-all-dream jobs was put on pause in October. They paid my salary through December, but come January, that money stops. I took a temp gig in November that ended this past Wednesday. And now, I have… no income. The dream job has the potential to unpause as soon as February, but it also has the potential to not unpause until much later. And unfortunately, I have to make money. (This newsletter is a stream of income, but like most Substacks, only 6% of readers have a paid subscription. You can’t live on that unless you have like, thousands of paid subscribers.)
My normal inclination in this scenario is to spend every waking second wondering how to make money. How can I improve my CV? Should I update my LinkedIn? What about putting a notice of availability on my Instagram? How many jobs can I apply to in one week? Who can I email about potential gigs? Do people still buy foot photos on OnlyFans? Could I sell everything we own? Should we sell the house and buy a tiny home out on the mesa and raise our child like a feral animal, only teaching it of the flora and fauna and slowly remove ourselves from the world of salaries and 1099s?
Putting aside the sheer spiraling, it’s December. People are barely doing their own jobs, let alone thinking about hiring for other jobs. December is not when you get a job! That’s a January thing! And because it’s a January thing, I am not going to let it be a December thing. I am going to claim the rest of December for myself.
This is where living in a small town makes things easy. There isn’t a litany of museums. There’s no Top 20 Things To See. And of the things there are to see, I can assure you I have seen them. There are like nine things I can do in my freetime that are free, given that an important part of not making money is also not spending money: I can ski, I can write, I can go to events at the library, I can drive my mountain bike down to the desert, and—OK maybe there are just four things I can do. But I can also do puzzles, YouTube yoga, shadow Ben in the shop, organize every closet in the house. I can take on bigger projects like selling old cycling stuff, re-drywalling the wall in the nursery so I can hang the mural I bought, cleaning out the basement room to prepare for renovation. I can use this time before I blow up into a beach ball to do things beach balls can’t do!
Of course, you’re getting a deep insight into what I consider “taking advantage” of free time. There will always be the segment of the internet that advises using this time to rest. But I’m rested! I sleep a lot! My resting heart rate at 10,000 feet is like 53! I’m fine! Not to mention, if I were to take the month as a lady of leisure, the closest “treat yourself” manicure is seventy dollars. I’ve watched what I’ve wanted to watch. I am as caught up as I want to be on my to-be-read pile. And a girl can only rest so much before she goblins. Plus, rest is a cavern. It is so easily filled by what lingers on the other side of the door, and the only things waiting for me are stress, worry, and the reality of maternity care in America. And like I said, we are keeping those in January.
Ideas, though, are hard to act on without a plan. I had these same ideas about how to joyfully fill “free” time every time before. Every time before, I didn’t take enough action. I spent too much time bingeing TV shows, scrolling devices, and lollygagging. When responsibility came knocking like a census taker, eager and unwilling to be deterred, all I felt was shame and regret. It didn’t matter how much rest I got — I felt like shit as soon as it was over.
And maybe shit is inevitable! But I do genuinely believe I can snuff out the regret element. Days with no built-in routine require some structure. Routine is the backbone of mental health! Routines keep us from thinking we have to sell feet pics! And as of Thursday, I don’t have a routine! A few weeks back I shared with paid subscribers one of my favorite methods to at least ensure I am taking basic care of myself: a habit tracker. Days on one axis, habits on the other. I just tick off the days I accomplish certain tasks so that I can see when it’s been two weeks since I flossed and not “I don’t know, a few days ago?” (You are, of course, welcome to make a copy of said tracker and add your own habits. I hang mine on the inside of the medicine cabinet.)
I also made a calendar for me and Ben to track days on skis. Doesn’t matter what kind of skis, just days on skis. This is of utmost importance because next winter there will be A BABY. I nearly threw up reading this 10 Fun Outdoor Activities for Babies from The Bump which included “play with bubbles”, “roll a ball around”, and two different versions of “listen to music" because they couldn’t come up with anything else. And look, I know I’m gonna be a different mom than that, but that doesn’t make skiing any less precious this year. You can’t strap a baby to your back and do moguls.
Third and final thing: numbers.
For years, I’ve loved the idea of a word for the year. And for years, every word I’ve picked has had essentially no impact on that entire year. The word for 2023 was Tenacious. I wasn’t tenacious this year! I felt like I was being dragged behind a truck! Past words like Bloom and Go didn’t do anything either. In fact, after a year of Bloom, my own reflection on it was “nothing blooms without nurturing. Should’ve used the word Nurture.” Choosing a word, an essence, an intention, none of these work for me, despite how romantic I find them. What works for me is choosing what, when, and how.
Related Reading: on her “Year of More”
Given that this hunk of free time is only three weeks before the realities of 2024 set in, it’s actually not that much time. But it’s enough time to ski 20 days, clean and rearrange two rooms, organize the space under the stairs, putty the textured (and painted) wall in the second bedroom to prepare to hang a mural, and finalize a plan for building out the basement room. So those are my goals to fill the space, lest something more unpleasant creep in.
After all, my CV and website are updated, my LinkedIn is fine, I am a person existing in the world who some other people know, it will be fine. I will be fine. I will figure it out. (Can you tell I’m talking to myself here?) All I can do now, until the broader economic taps turn back on, is enjoy myself — however frugally that may be. Somewhat easy given the best dinners are walking distance to a friend’s, the most fun is a free trail, and the only work left is to nest.
I do believe Snoots, Cooper, and Link all were beneficiaries of your tenacity the year. You tenaciously held on to that truck you were being dragged behind! And don’t you forget it 😄
Hey, another writer in Substack has a “leave a tip” button on her newsletter. Maybe you could put one up for a couple of months? I’d bet some subscribers, myself included, would send a little extra while you’re in between gigs! Would that feel too weird? In any case, thanks for sharing honestly here—I know I’ve wasted plenty of free time worrying when I could have been enjoying things. Or, like, organizing the drawers.