I paid the registration fee. I did not go to the conference. (Y'all know the one--the medievalists know, at any rate.) (And I wasn't presenting, so this isn't a ditching-with-consequences.)
Why did I do it? I love the conference and I haven't been in a couple of years; I was looking forward to it--until this week. And then, and then. I was tired! So tired! So not motivated to rent a car and drive a total of 9ish hours to listen to a handful of papers! (I wouldn't have been able to arrive until Friday afternoon anyway.)
So, this morning, in a moment of giddy transgression, I canceled my car rental and did not pack.
Instead I spent the day painting my new cottage. I got through the bedroom (a darkish sagey green) and living room (sunny yellow). Tomorrow I intend to do the hallway (stormy gray-purple) and bathroom (crazy rust orange; not sure how it'll go with the black and white fixtures, but eh!). I'm undecided about the kitchen: I might leave it as-is or paint it with the leftovers of one or another of the colors.
I love painting new apartments: it's like erasing the previous tenant. Also the interior of the cottage was entirely done in a strangely hot beige that just bugged the shit out of me. It's already much prettier. I won't be moving in for another week and a half (on Wednesday I go to visit Mom, who will drive the u-haul back with me--a two-day trip--should be interesting), but I'm excited to be installed in there. Or I will be, once the painting is done, I've cleaned some of the grungier areas, and the landlords (who are friends of mine) take care of one or two little problems (a broken lock and a sink that backs up into the bathtub--which I discovered when I washed out a paintbrush in the kitchen. It was pretty gross).
Yeah, so this was what I wanted to do. It's funny; I love to travel but lately I keep canceling trips. I was going to go on an epic trans-France march this summer--I was really excited about it--and then I suddenly didn't want to go anymore. Part of it was money, part of it was time (I do need to do some work this summer, for example), but chiefly I felt a deep desire to just stay put for a while. I think it has to do with this long process of coming to accept where I am right now. Knowing that I'm going to be here next year has let me settle in, and being at least a little settled might be what I need. Yeah. I'm looking forward to a mostly-quiet summer. And maybe I'll even write that accursed article I've been not thinking about for the last six months.