There is a book languishing somewhere in my to-be-read pile called The Gift of Play: Why Adult Women Stop Playing and How to Start Again by Barbara Brannen.
I need to dig it out right now and read it.
Sometime in June, I loudly proclaimed to my husband "I need to have some FUN this summer, something to feed my spirit so that I can go back to work in August with a smile on my face and a story to tell when someone asks about my summer break."
Here I am, halfway through my one month of no-work-appointments, with a planner full of work-related reading and projects, commitments to exercise and clean and deal with children's activities.
There is a sprinkling of fun (little f) here and there--swimming in the neighbor's pool, painting a sign for our house, going to a concert with my husband, reading a book just for me.
I try to make activities fun. There's a subtle difference, though, between injecting fun into an activity one feels obligated to do, and doing something just for fun.
Nothing on my calendar screams FUN. And I'm not even sure I could articulate what that really looks like, anymore. I just know it's missing.
I've got two weeks to figure it out and squeeze it in. Maybe Barbara Brannen can help me. You'll know where to find me today, in between exercising and cleaning. I'll be searching for my funny bone. If you find it first, can you please return it?