The Great Easter Fail
There are some traditions associated with Easter that I have a genuine fondness for. For instance, no matter how old I get I still get a kick out of hunting around the house for chocolate eggs that I'm not particularly interested in eating (it's the thrill of the chase!) and I've never met a buttered hot cross bun I didn't want to devour with gusto. Fond foil-wrapped memories, all.
But what I've noticed in recent years is that I have another annual Easter habit that is entirely less satisfying. Something I've grown to think of as The Great Easter Fail.
As every cubicle citizen knows, Easter with its double-whammy Friday-Monday combo is the longest of the long weekends. Four luxurious days off in a row that don't cost you anything in annual leave.
And every year I Have Plans. I actively assuage my guilt about all the things that I don't quite get around to doing the rest of the time by promising myself that I will do them at Easter. At Easter there will be time. At Easter I will be super-organised and probably get everything done by midday Saturday. I will be motivated. Things will happen. I will fight entropy. I will create order from chaos. There will be raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens! I am the walrus. Koo koo kachoo!
Somehow when I say it in my own head it all sounds perfectly plausible. Except what actually happens is that I do about one thing on my list and spend the rest of the time working* through a backlog of TV shows I've recorded whilst nibbling at corn chips and ignoring the perfectly lovely weather outside.
Meanwhile I'm no closer to getting all my Easter jobs done. In fact, after running quite the marketing campaign with myself over how productive my Easter break was going to be it's more than a little disappointing to realise that you've stubbornly refused to admit that these Easter jobs even exist. Disappointing but entirely predictable. It's what I do.
What I don't do, however, is:
In my defence I did make a late charge on Monday when I cleaned the windows. Some of them. The most dirty ones. Okay, the ones I could reach without a ladder. And I only did that because I find squeegeeing strangely satisfying. I did also manage to get all my clothes into clothes storage devices. Behold! I have carpet that is visible!
But really I would consider these fairly minor successes in the scheme of things. I had such great plans...but such little interest in following them through.
Does this happen to you at Easter as well? How would you grade your Easter Effectiveness? A+ or, like me, a solid D? What are the jobs that you put off until the magical point in the future when you "have time"?
*I'm using the term loosely here, of course.