A Perfect Spring Day

I’ve been looking for a good writing prompt as of late. Hell, I’m always looking for a good writing prompt, but more so in recent days. I used to despise writing prompts—“you shouldn’t be writing if you have nothing to say!” Now, as I’ve gotten older and matured (just pretend along with me here, folks), I appreciate the concept of writing prompts much more than before.

I find lots of good ones—good for others, that is. I will run across a prompt, be mildly interested, think for a bit, and then say to myself, “Huh. Got nothing on that one.” This happens more than I care to admit.

Then, yesterday evening, I ran across a writing prompt that tempted me to describe a perfect spring day.

 

My perfect spring day? The sun is out, and there is a slight breeze. It’s warm, and all of the windows in my house are open. I can smell the irises blooming right outside the front window and the smell of fresh earth coming alive; the scent wafting slowly through the downstairs of our home. As the sun shines on these magnificent flowers and then upon the window panes, the room is splotched with blues and purples and yellows, which are reflected from the windows onto the walls. The willow tree in our front yard slowly sways in the breeze, creating delicious shade-- perfect for curling up on the loveseat to read.

I read some amazing novel, and occasionally daydream of being a writer myself, and when drowsiness—from the calm and warmth and the drifting away into my mind—comes, I can give in. There is nothing left to do that afternoon—no laundry, no errands, no children to mind—other than to enjoy the fact that I am comfortable and alive.

Then, in the evening, perhaps I will go out to my favorite place and drink wine on the patio with a friend or two, or perhaps I will have J cook dinner for a handful of us while we sit out on that patio until late at night. Perhaps I would find myself porch sitting with one of my friends.

You see? How else would you know this about me?

Spring is actually on my mind today, despite the snow and gray skies and bleak temperatures.  You see, today is the start of Spring Break, if you are a student.

It’s a common misconception that the university closes down during spring break, or winter break, or even during the summer. Yes, students usually head out (but not all of them) and faculty can head out as well (usually holing up at home to complete work—like writing papers for the submission deadline next Friday), but staff? Staff stay on. We can take vacation during spring break, of course, but we don’t just get it off.

The moral of the story kids: enjoy it while you can.

More often than not, when my students tell me to have a good break, I just tell them, “Thanks! You, too!” It’s easier that way. Sometimes they ask me what I am going to do during spring break, and then that involves a more in-depth answer—which involves me describing the fact that I look forward to the break to catch up on my to-do list while they are away from campus. Most of them are shocked that I will be in the office during that time.

Yesterday, a student told me that they considered this to be “incredibly sad”. They couldn’t understand why we work so hard.

It got me to thinking. Why do we work so hard? I have always enjoyed working in academia because it does allow for more personal freedom. In the corporate world—it seems to me-- your superiors take interest in the clothes you wear, the shoes you wear, the emails you send, the websites you visit, the reasons why you call in sick, and how you will be spending your measly week of vacation. In higher education, they would prefer that you dress nicely for work—but there is a lot freedom for interpretation there-- they would prefer you not bog down the network with your Plants vs. Zombies addiction, and don’t download thousands of songs to your iTunes library. They usually are happy when you don’t come in to the office sick, and infect everyone else (which can bring an office or department to its knees) and they don’t care much where you spend your four weeks of vacation a year, as long as you’re not planning it during commencement or the start of classes in the fall.

And yet, while I enjoy (and fully recognize that I enjoy) many privileges that those who work in the business world do not, I still wonder why it is that we all work so damn hard.

And why do we make our children work so damn hard? The boys also have spring break this week. I was looking forward to their break more than they were—no schlepping kids to school, no math homework for a week, no overtired kids who are whiny and falling asleep on the couch by 8:00 pm. Except, my kiddos came home with homework for spring break! Doesn’t that negate the whole purpose of a break? More on that some other time.

What does all of this work do for us? Are we missing out on life? Are we really more productive than European nations who take the month of August off for holiday, or only work 35 hour work weeks? Are we burning ourselves out at younger and younger ages? Is it, in fact, incredibly sad that my vision of a perfect spring day involves sitting on my couch without guilt?

And all of this from a writing prompt… It makes me realize that this is something I should do more often!