A few weeks ago, I threw a holiday on the calendar: Relaxation Day. I made it the Sunday after Thanksgiving because it was the first available day where we would be home all day (which means we don’t have to get out of our pyjamas) and it was far enough away that I could clear any stressors from the day like work so it could feel like a real holiday.
My plan for today is to remain in the aforementioned pyjamas all day. I grabbed a few boxes of hors d’oeuvres from the store for dinner so we could eat using toothpicks, including a box of hot pretzels because why not. I am reading Blake Crouch’s Dark Matter (so good) and have two episodes of Dirk Gently to catch up on. The ChickieNob and I are watching The Crown and eating unreal amounts of popcorn. All devices are charged for unlimited gaming time, and in the event that they need to recharge, I have consoles ready to go. And did I mention the pyjamas? Not getting dressed. I can’t because I also plan to take naps.
Everyone in the house is following their bliss for the next 24 hours.
We usually only do this once a year — stick a day on the calendar where we don’t have to do anything except be hedonistic for 24 hours — but it occurred to me that we could do this much more often. Not so often where it ceases to feel special, but four times per year seems reasonable.
It’s different from actual holidays because on actual holidays, we usually have to cook and clean or we have to go somewhere. There are obligations and rituals. And that is lovely — I would never want to get rid of cooking for Rosh HaShanah or the Kol Nidre service on Yom Kippur or hanging out with my family for Thanksgiving — but I also need days like today where I am doing what I want, when I want, and doing it all in pyjamas.
And hors d’oeuvres for dinner.