Stranger (Procrastinating) Things

We leave to go out of town in…pause for me to count…37 hours. On my to-do list I’ve completed  approximately…pause for me to count…one thing. Well, maybe 7/9 of a thing because that thing was grocery shopping but of course the order didn’t have everything I needed so now I have to add another thing to my to-do list which is go into a store to finish the first thing on the list. So I guess now I’m back…pause for me to count…zero. 

The laundry I/we/someone-in-this-house started last weekend is lying dumped on the couch at my feet like a cliche. I hate being a cliche. I need to do more laundry. It’s on the to-do list. Actually, technically I need to make the to-do list first. I haven’t really started that either. 

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It’s quiet time in my house right now. And by this I mean the 2-3 hours when I convince my three year old to play alone, all while I answer a million of his questions before finally giving in and pressing play on Bluey. And yes, somehow this feels like quiet time compared to the other 21-22 hours in our day. 

I’m still wearing my swimsuit from a wading pool visit this morning. Which is probs super bad for me. But there’s something very nostalgic about a drying swimsuit against a warm body cooling in the AC, or in my case cooling in the basement because it’s the coolest place in the house. Wearing my suit makes me feel like a kid again. The kid in me loves knowing we’ll go back to the beach later today as a family. The kid in me loves that this is available to us and believes when something is available, you say yes. 

Beach visit wasn’t on the to-do list, the to-do list I haven’t written yet. 

During quiet time, I work. What does this mean? No, really, I’m asking you. What does this mean? What is my work? I’m still trying to figure that out. And by figuring that out I mean I’m reading newsletters on the internet and clicking on links for cute tank tops. I know the work I “should” be doing. I have a list for that, lists I’ve actually made. It’s filled with stories I want to write (need to write?) But the “should” looks a whole lot like this pile of laundry. It’s not coming easy to me at the moment. I can’t find the bravery to tackle the pile of words. 

Instead I kick the laundry aside, both literal and figurative, and turn to the words of others. Call it procrastination if you must. I like to think of it as chasing inspiration. Reading how other people wrestle with curiosity in their stories often leads to me pick up a pen and write about my own. Today it’s Katie’s words on ordinary beauty and Ashlee’s list on how to quit writing and Molly’s feelings about Stranger Things that inspires me. It’s not the work I’m “supposed” to be doing, not anything I had on a to-do list, but I’m writing all the same. It’s a whole lot easier to write words when you’re curious instead of scared. 

While we’re on the topic of scared, I started watching Stranger Things, too. But why? That show is all sorts of scary. I don’t like scary. But neither does Molly, and she’s the one who convinced me to watch it in the first place. What is it about this show that draws us both in? Molly says it’s the redemptive stories, good people working together towards a better good. I like that. But now I’m wondering if it’s something else for me. I think what I like are the characters’ bravery and curiosity. No, wait, I got that backwards. It’s first curiosity and then bravery. They’re faced with something unknown—what’s beyond that tunnel? what do these lights do? who is this girl?—but instead of turning around and running, they look closer. They’re curious. And it’s this curiosity that helps them find bravery. 

I’m not sure what that has to do with procrastination and summer. Except that maybe leading with curiosity instead of a plan isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe when I abandon a checklist for the sake of joy I’m simply being curious. Maybe choosing to be curious about where the day, or the words, might take me is how I’ll learn to be brave to do the harder things. 

Tomorrow I’ll rage pack. I’ll make a billion trips to target and I won’t go to bed early like I said I would. And still it will all get done. 

But today we’ll go to the beach. I’ll spend 20 minutes blowing up an inner tube that will allow them to feel the freedom of floating on water. I’ll say yes when the ice cream truck comes by, so that they can try a new flavor and compare it to last week’s popsicle. Then later that night I’ll finally work through that pile of laundry while we watch the next episode of Stranger Things. I won’t find out if this terrifying story has a happy ending. Not yet. But I will get to watch Mike and Will and Lukas and Eleven and Dustin (total crush on Dustin, just as a side) find their bravery in this episode’s story. It will surely leave me curious about what happens next. It always does. One brave story usually makes us curious enough to write the next.

Maybe it will even leave me brave enough to tackle that packing list tomorrow.