Companions: Roommate. Dr. Howard Rosenthal (at whose picture I just stared open-mouthed for 45 seconds. He looks nothing like his voice).
8 textbooks which I have no intention of reading. A diminutive yet persistent voice of shame to remind me how much I should be reading said textbooks.
Sunscreen–3 kinds. One for face, one for body, one for when I realize I’m turning lobstery despite my best efforts and start to panic.
Frisbee to throw at my roommate, who has claimed that she has no intention of doing anything but lie in the sun like a dead mermaid. We shall see, my pretty. We shall see.
Sunglasses, stolen from my roommate’s car, stolen from her Starbucks’ lost and found.
Starbucks coffee. So. Much. Coffee. You know how we do.
My dignity, with which to attempt to fend off the horror of permatanned Charleston natives when they see my blindingly white skin. Yes, folks, it’s all natural. And no, I don’t tan. . .I cancer.
My Kindle, along with a super practical, super kitschy Ziploc bag accessory. I’ve only been able to play with it a bit to date, but I’ve treated myself to some fun reads and am excited to have a chance to finally have some uninterrupted ‘reading-by-choice’ time.
Since my typical pattern is to spend my breaks guiltily whittling down (or avoiding) my never-ending to-do list, I’m very thankful that Cal convinced me to take a whole day to purposefully just chill: we’ve declared the beach a ‘no work’ zone. It’s been quite awhile since I had intentional rejuvenation time, rather than so-exhausted-I-have-no-choice-but-to-stop-for-a-bit time. But it’s my last Spring Break ever, and I want to try actually ‘breaking’ for once in my life.
So today, my motto is:
Counselor, self-care thyself!