OT School Journal Prompt: How would you spend your perfect day off? What makes that perfect for you?

Wake up (the best start to any day).
The house is completely clean and smells good; coffee in bed with snuggles.
We'd go for a walk around the neighborhood (it's sunny and warm with a slight breeze); maybe we'll see a moose in the distance!

We'd go to breakfast somewhere good. Spenard Roadhouse or Fire Island depending on the vibe. It would not be crowded and the food would be amazing. Then we'd go home and garden, read, relax, listen to music.

We'd have lunch at home and maybe take a lil' nap.

There'd be some sort of afternoon activity. Maybe we'd go swimming or ride a horse or visit with grandparents or have a playdate at the park.

Then we'd go see a movie at Beartooth. We'd have pizza and it would be, like, a Miyazaki film or something.

Finally we'd pick up some wild scoops on the way home. We'd have a fire-pit in the backyard and eat ice cream and play a board game that everyone liked and nobody cheated at.

Then it's time for bubble baths and bed. Bedtime involved reading a book and final snuggles and picking out a sleep story and everyone feeling cozy. <3 

This is where it takes a turn: the kids go to bed, right? Then, maybe I read while my s/o plays a video game. Or maybe I get to play a video game by myself and then read and go to bed. The house is clean. I feel...light?

I feel...like nothing is tugging on the edges of my brain pulling me into a well o' despair. 

Some of this is variable; I think when I was younger I would have said things like yoga (and that would still be nice) and cat cafe (and that could still be on fleek with the kiddos). But what would make it feel like the perfect day to me would be: connection, feeling just...good in my environment and flexibility. 

There are memories of walking to get coffee in Prescott and that being just...lovely. Or hearing music from downtown in my little studio apartment. Or the sound of the brook running outside my window. Or walking to yoga class or driving to Thumb Butte for a hike. Nostalgia is dangerous. And I do remember the brain patterns/chemicals/whatever else is going on with me being such a strong factor in how I couldn't really enjoy the loveliness with which I was surrounded and actively trying to surround myself.

And! I would definitely say I was not in a secure place - financially or otherwise. But there was still a lot of beauty there. And I don't regret going there or the experiences I had there. I love them. They're in my heart. They're also not my entire identity. And I don't want to go back. I just Leonard Cohen them. I take that waltz now. It's all that there is.