I’ve been in need of some serious chill time lately. Ask anybody. Working nights has destroyed my rhythm. Hard to keep fresh when you work from midnight to 4am, come home, get in that first shift of sleep, get up, do chores, exercise, nosh a bit, blog, sleep a second shift, get up, shower, then head out to do it all over again. What am I going to do when graduate school starts in six weeks? Uh, did I mention that I’m a baby boomer? Or, that this is my likely schedule for the next three years? Not only is this going to get old fast but I’m going to get older, faster.
Subsequently, I covet my chill time. Typically, my schedule only allows me to reserve Saturdays for rest and recovery. Don’t call me or come by the house. Listen, I’m so old school, I still consider cell phones intrusive. If you must interrupt me it better be for a good damn reason. I need REM sleep and I can’t get that if I’m talking to you. Though I guard my chill time religiously, I’m not a complete isolationist. I can be reached by phone but I route my public number through Grand Central which does a great job of handling my calls. Unless you’re in my inner circle of family and friends and privy to my direct number, the best option is to email me and be patient. I’ll get back to you soon enough.
Thus Saturdays are sacrosanct. Sleep is king. If I do anything during daylight hours, it’s reading, a little prayer or scoping the Net. Only after sundown do I do things remotely normal. I’ll catch up on the news online (BBC, CNN, NPR, various blogs, local outlets). I might throw in a load of wash, try out a new recipe for the wok or grill or watch sports or a movie. It was last Saturday, post-chill and during the mindless pursuit of broadcast TV, that I happened on one of the funniest commercials I’ve seen in years.
If you haven’t seen Nike’s Hyperdunk Recovery Center, feast your senses on this snippet. It reminds me of the life I knew before my knees gave in to more sensible pursuits. After watching this video, my former GF suggests that Nike should hire ‘Zen Master’ Phil Jackson as an HDRC therapist during the offseason, or at least, a guest lecturer. Heads up, Nike. Are you listening?
Sure, I been dunked on. But I done the dunkin’ too. More later. It’s time to get in that two-hour nap before work. That’s how I do.
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