Vacationland

It sounds ridiculous, but I was nervous about moving to the state called Vacationland. And not because of the winters. I like to think my frenetic energy blends into the background in an urban setting, but in a place known for enjoying a slower pace of life, not so much.

And there's that nagging reality of not having a job. Sure, it sounds great when your eleven hours into an eight hour work day, but sustained periods of time off can feel, well, boring. And will that make me boring? If I'm not careful, will I fall into the trap of referring to people on TV like I know them (aka "Aviva's father is a h-o-r-n-d-o-g") , or suddenly notice Friends references make up an even greater part of what I contribute to a conversation?

I was asked yesterday if my days drag, but they don't. Something unexpected has happened. Along with writing each day, I find I am productive, but perhaps moving at a bit more of a Vacationland pace. I'm walking more slowly through the supermarket, and stopping to smell the err blueberries. And while I was able to create anxiety about a lack of things to be anxious about,  I'm working on embracing the more relaxed pace (and I'm kind of enjoying it).