First, I’d like to start off with a list of some accomplishments or sort of accomplishments for this week:

• I rode my bike on Monday. My intention was to ride at least three times this week. On the way home it sounded like it was rattling apart. Michael asked me about the ride because he knew I was hesitant about my ability to ride a bicycle. I told him that it was great except the rattle. He told me to not ride again until he could look over it this weekend. Even though I only rode once, I feel like this is still an accomplishment.

• Dog walks every morning.

• Mammogram

• Completing safety training for my visit to MBL in a couple of weeks

• Refraining from murder

• Quality yoga mat time every day this week (probably helped with whole not murdering thing)

This is Michael and The Cabbage’s last day of school, which means we start our summer schedule next week. I’ve already made an Excel spreadsheet of all the chores I do, organized by weekly, bi-weekly, every other week, number of times a day. I’m ready to hand this spreadsheet over to the two of them and relinquish the majority of my chores. I’ve been anticipating this moment for weeks and thinking about how it feels like a freedom. Michael asked me what I was going to do with my Saturdays if I don’t have to go grocery shopping and I said that I might find a morning yoga class. There’s a vegan bakeshop in Brookside that doesn’t open until 10:00 AM on Saturday’s. I’ve been dying to get brunch here, but the timing is always wrong. Now, I could go to yoga and then to the bake shop afterward. Or I could beg Sarah to take me kayaking and then the two of us could get brunch after. Or I could go roller skating at the outdoor roller skating park. Or I could grab my big camera, hop on my scooter and zip around the city taking pictures with the morning light. Or I could print out every thing I have ever written in regards to a book, find a cafe and sit down with these pages and a red marker and start to put something real together.

All of these options sound like a vacation to me.

I think I’m making this my song for the summer. I don’t need the whole year, but I need these next three months. I need three months of making as few decisions for other people as I possible can get away with and focusing less on other people’s needs. I need three months of not being so dang considerate. I need three months of not my usual chores so I have time for the chore of cleaning out my closet and the rest of the house. I need these three months because I can’t tell you the last time I lounged in my hammock in the backyard.

And the next three months are something to be grateful for.