I am a perpetual over-booker, to my detriment, actually. The thing is I’m nervous about letting people down. My friends mean the world to me so I do my best to fill every spare second in my schedule with a social date, or at least a phone call. However I never factor in the other things which will inevitably come up when I’m not working, things such as life admin, cleaning my apartment, exercise, bad traffic, colds, periods (which seem to come every bloody month, funny that), etc.
You see I live alone and I usually work alone, so I feel like the absence of people in my immediate sphere should be filled when I’m not sleeping or servicing my work. I am also a big believer in Oscar Wilde’s ethos, that art imitates life and there is no art if there is no life. If I’m not out there being a gal about town what is there to write about anyway - oh wait, this!
About a year ago I went to went to Sydney for the first time post the beginning of the pandemic. I was so overbooked on this trip that I think one day I managed to meet with seven separate friends on various coffee, lunch, wine and dinner dates. One of the perils of social media is that everyone always knows when you’re in town. I got back to my friend’s spare room that evening, so off my face on caffeine, booze and conversation, that I seriously couldn’t sleep. By the time I boarded my plane back to Melbourne, a few days later, I was so wired I thought I might explode - and I did explode into tears, as soon as I got “home” home, much to my ex-boyfriends joy.
Equally every time I visit my hometown I have an inevitable meltdown about three quarters of the way through the break. I spend said trips seeing old school friends and distant family members, and do my best to give them all I’ve got. This always leads to a night of tears towards the end of the trip, in which I have the same conversation with my Mum where she says “It’s OK to do nothing! You are on holiday, darling!”
I also am lucky to have so many wonderful friends. I don’t lose sight of that. My friends especially have got my through many a rough patch, especially the last six months. Certain friendships have different needs too - some sustain themselves on an annual, looong phone call catch up, much like the relationship of my beloved best school friend and I. Some friendships consist of constant text messages and DMs. Some friendships require more in-person maintenance, and sometimes this can feel a little transactional. I’m doing my best to rejig these kinds of friendships, a bit of a reshuffle of the hierarchy, if you will - another symptom of getting older and nearing a significant birthday - in that no friendship should ever feel transactional.
However, much as I hate to admit it, I get tired sometimes, in fact rather a lot. I don’t have as much energy as everyone else, despite appearances, and I am actually, secretly, a 50% introvert. I also have plenty if ailments which hinder my energy levels - this weird, rare form of anemia which means perpetually low b12, endometriosis, a rather bad back, general english rose delicacy, etc. Sometimes a girl just needs a day in bed. La dolce far niente, as the Italians say.
So why is it still hard to let myself do nothing now and then? A bit of it is FOMO, though the older I grow the less I care about that. I also carry a lot of guilt when I let myself laze, it does go against our post industrial revolution worker culture after all.
Sometimes, when I really cannot cope anymore, my over-booking can lead me to being a bit of a flake now then as well. I get to a point of exhaustion where I really can’t show up to the next thing. I hate this because I hate flaking - I hate when people flake on me and I hate when I flake on them (and isn’t it funny how those you flake on always ends up being the same set of people). Yet I know why it happens, at least to me. And I will never understand why we all continue to say “yes” when we really mean “no”.
So, today I am trying my hardest to do nothing. So far I’ve watched one episode of Succession (very good, as per), sent a few texts, stared aimlessly at Instagram and had one quick phone call with Mum. I’m doing my best to do nothing and am sort of succeeding. I am also being so lazy that I’m writing this piece from the sanctuary of my boudoir, AND I’m still in my nightie.
I give you permission to do the same now and then. Lazy, yes, necessary, yes, deserved, yes. La dolce far niente is the sweetness in doing nothing.