It’s taken me ten days into my furlough from work to finally work out what I want to do with the next 6 weeks. I’ve been getting more and more anxious about what to do with this unexpected free time, to the extent that I’m pretty sure others could hear the voice inside my head screaming instructions at me to ensure I don’t waste this opportunity.
I am acutely aware that I am in a unique situation where, for the first time since my early teens, I don’t have a ‘boss’ to report to. I do not have to structure my days around opening hours or manage clients expectations. I have more time on my hands than I’ve ever had and I’ve not been completely sure of what to do with it.
I’ve had ideas. And written them down. On colour coded post-its. Bite sized chunks of tasks that I can tick off to ensure I feel like I’m achieving lots. These plans are satisfying, however I have to be honest, they’re not inspiring me. Those to-do’s have not been quietening the plaintive wails in my head.
Today though, I’ve finally made a decision on what I will do for the remainder of my furlough. It’s an idea that my brain is happily kicking the tyres of and I’m certain the idea will pass muster.
I’m going to be curious and have fun and rebuild.
I’m going to discover my photography style, and learn how to write a story, to use my calligraphy pens and create art for my house. Or not. We’ll see where the muse takes me. I’ll probably work my way through some of those post it notes, however it won’t be the end of the world if I go back to work with the windows still needing washing and the loft still unsorted. My plan is to dance and laugh and learn and enjoy myself. If I can do that, its been time well spent.