No soccer game last weekend. No early morning, no folding chair, no sideline coaching. I had a full, glorious weekend of rest mapped out. Exactly how I wanted it.
Take my braids down. Wash my hair. Wash and style Aliah’s hair. Rest. That was it. That was the whole agenda and sacred experience I was committed to.
Then I walked out onto the back patio.
There it was. Still in the box. One of a few things that was slowly taking over what I have claimed as my quiet space; my yoga space, my peaceful corner in a house of six people. And something in me said: today is the day.
So I did what any completely reasonable busybody would do. I found Uncle Carl. “You want to go ahead and tackle this shed? Should take us no time.”
Famous last words.
I thought four hours. Six hours, tops. Done by afternoon, hair down by evening, back on schedule. The box had other plans. Because what followed was two full days. Saturday and Sunday consumed of little pieces, mediocre picture instructions that raised more questions than they answered, and a level of frustration I have not experienced in a very long time.
Saturday had me tired and annoyed. By Sunday night, I was past annoyed, I was just exhausted. Don’t say anything to me, I am going to bed exhausted.
That’s the cost of being a busybody. I saw open time and filled it. Who does that? I do. I cannot help it. I’ve accepted this about myself. I have also accepted that “should take no time” is something I should never say out loud again.
But we finished it. My aunt is going to use it as her gardening shed. And when I stepped back and looked at that thing actually standing, assembled, upright, I felt it. That deep-down rising satisfaction of completing something hard. Something that did not go the way I planned, but got done anyway.
I never did take my braids down. But Saturday night, after we put the tools up for the day, I washed and styled Aliah’s hair. We made it a whole movie night. Popcorn, Swapped, Arrington in the bed, Aliah in the hot seat. The shed, the instructions, and the day of frustration faded out for a little while.
Sometimes when your weekend plans fall apart, what replaces them isn’t pretty while it’s happening. But done is done. And done feels good.
My braids, however, are still very much in my head. We’ll get there.
BTW — “The only way to get a thing done is to start to do it, then keep on doing it, and finally you’ll finish it, even if in the beginning you think you can’t do it at all.” — Langston Hughes
Has a free weekend ever turned into something you didn’t plan but finished anyway? Drop it in the comments — I know I’m not the only one.
Other Blogs You May Enjoy:
How Does Your Hair Make You Feel?
Puzzling Fun: Bonding, Brain Boosts, and Why You Should Make Time for It
Crafting A Quiet Space – My Outdoor Patio Oasis
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