Regular time
I was thrown for a loop when my daughter left for overnight camp four weeks ago. I thought I would stick to a rigorous writing schedule not having to drive her to day camp and back, to friends’ houses and back. I thought I would revel in the freedom of just having a 16-year-old son at home who is more gone than not, and who enjoys time at home on his own with the remote control and a two-quart container of lemonade-iced tea and ESPN.
Geez, was I wrong!
It was nice change of pace to keep in touch with my social son via text messages when I was out socializing…and not worry about picking up someone or getting home early. I enjoyed spending time with just him…something we haven’t done as much of since she was born, oh, 13 years ago.
BUT…I found myself behaving during MONTH AWAY AT CAMP like we behave at the beginning of Daylight Savings Time. You know, you wake up in the morning and look at the clock and think — what time is it really? You’re ready for lunch and think — is it really noon or is it really 11. Or is it really 1? What would I be doing at this time if it were yesterday? You’re slightly off balance, off kilter…just waiting it to feel like whatever time it really is, is just regular time. Usually takes me about a week.
Which is what I did when my daughter was away — at least for the first two weeks. It was 9 am and I thought, “Oh, I’d be taking her to camp now.” At 3pm when I had no where to go and nothing pressing I thought, “Oh, I’d be picking her up from camp now.” When I was out for dinner with friends and it was 9pm I’d think, “Oh, if daughter were home I’d really want to be getting home now.” And so it went.
But now that she’s home things will feel like it’s regular time, all the time.
And I’m planning on this feeling of normalcy leading back to the writing more regularly.
