There’s a lot of pressure to do things on the weekend–run errands, see friends, basically…live your life in between the lunch breaks and commuting that you do the other five days out of the week.
I mean, you can’t do laundry AND drink a glass of wine on a Tuesday. You’re lucky to make it out alive when you do that on a Thursday. And conversely, if you try to shop for groceries on a Friday, the store is absolutely packed. (As if no one has any beer to drink or pizza to eat on a Friday night!)
But then, every once in awhile, you finish your chores early, or the days start to get a bit longer and the sun stays out later, or you’re just able to keep your eyes open for an hour extra that night. And suddenly you feel like you are on borrowed time. So, you quick try to hurry up and do something just for you. Like write a blog or read a book or watch a half-hour television show.
That was today for me, leap day. The 24-hour period that only comes around every four years and makes the shortest month of the year that much longer. Which is kind of overwhelming.
I’m all like, shouldn’t I be doing something special on this day that doesn’t come every month, let alone every year? I mean, shouldn’t I at least try to make something matter with all of this extra time? It feels like an anxiety-inducing holiday. (Wait, never mind. It just feels like a holiday.)
But as you probably predicted, I watched the dying light of the day and realized that the answer was no. I was going to do what I always do with my extra time. I’m not going to have this day in another four years, but that only means that I should be doing something for myself. Because that’s even rarer than a leap day.
And I can’t tell you what to do with your leap day, but I hope that you’ll join me. Well, maybe in another 4 years, anyway.