Before this morning, I never knew there could be such a thing as an “easy” run. They were all hard, as far as I knew. I guess this means I’m improving.

Tomorrow I take the day off from running, as we’re heading to Delaware to do wedding stuff. First we’re meeting with the wedding planner and the deacon who’s marrying us, and then we split up and I head with my parents to meet the florist and the photographer, while Steve and his mom check out places for the rehearsal dinner.

Then my parents have dinner plans, so I’m going to bring a book with me so I can chill in the hotel lounge in case Steve and his mom need more time to finish up. Well, here’s the peculiar thing. I am hoping that I get time to chill in the hotel lounge, just because I think it would be nice and relaxing to a have a few moments by myself to read when I’m not bouncing around on an exercise machine or worried that I’m neglecting an undertaking or making myself late for something.

I have a very hard time doing nothing, which is why I’m currently wishing for enforced relaxation. Steve pointed this out to me last weekend as I was decluttering and rearranging. He said, “You’re always so … active.” In all honestly, it’s one of my favorite traits about myself, because I think it ties in nicely to being ambitious, which helps me to achieve my definition of success.

Of course, success means something different to everybody. One person’s version of success might be living on less and having more free time to do nothing, whereas that sounds like my own personal hell. Not the doing nothing part, necessarily, but having to live on less sounds a lot like pile of poo to me.

I’m not a material person, so it’s not that I need an abundance of money so that I can have an abundance of stuff. In fact, having less stuff always feels nice. But I would like to have more space, which in itself costs more money. Only I would like that space to be, not empty exactly, but certainly not bursting at the seams with stuff.

Besides, if I'm out buying too much stuff, then it interferes with how I envision my retirement:

I kid. By the time I retire, we’ll all use debit cards and physical money won’t exist anymore.

Boy, there’s a tangent for ya.

Anyway, my point is that a small part of me hopes that Steve and his mom take their time on Saturday so that I can be forced to sit around and do nothing far from home where I won’t be able to tackle a project. I don’t mean that I want to rot there alone for hours on end while I forlornly wonder when I'll get to eat dinner, but an hour or two wouldn’t kill me. Of course the book and the magazine I plan to bring serve as research for personal projects, so this won’t exactly be idle time.

Baby steps, people.