i'm not always busy, and that's okay.

This weekend, Ryan went golfing in a neighboring city with a few of his friends, so I was left alone with the pooches. I was a blob for most of the day on Saturday, with the promise of dinner + movie plans with girlfriends later in the evening. When those fell through last minute because my friend got super sick, I felt like I was at a bit of a loss. On top of that, a lot of my other friends were out of town, and I just didn't feel up for hopping county lines to visit my parents. So unexpectedly, it was just me, myself, and the dogs.

And normally, I'd be fine with that. But because I'd been straight blobbin' all day, having only left the apartment for a quick Target run (for movie theater candy + new coffee) and a mini gym sesh, I was feeling unreasonably bummed. And you know when you're just "in a mood?"

I. Was. In. It. 

At Target, I could feel myself shooting RBF glares left and right, my workout felt contrived, and even the smallest decisions felt life-altering and overwhelming (do I go to the mall? do I go to my friend's place 30 minutes away? do I continue to blob it up and feel sorry for myself?!?!?).

Because here's the thing: we live in a cute little (emphasis on little) apartment, complete with original hardwood flooring, two-toned gray walls, and white french doors with gold details and faux-crystal knobs. We have nine windows just in our bedroom, twinkly lights, and trinkets. It's charming and adorable, and for the most part, we love it.

But we rented it for the area, not necessarily for its functionality. And the downside of living in the middle of a hustle-bustle-something-always-going-on type of area is just that: something is always going on, someone is always going out, etc. AKA it's a big source of #FOMO (fear of missing out, in case you didn't know!), which is so dumb, and it's something I'm really trying to work on...because contrary to what your Instagram feed leads you to believe, it's okay to chill out by yourself on a Saturday night.

Long story longer, I snapped myself out of the funk by making it a real "treat yo'self" type of night. I ordered the yummiest sushi from Uber Eats (my personal code is "eats-samanthar538" if you want $5 off!), walked my happy butt to the grocery store to pick up a bottle of wine, and set myself up with Game of Thrones. By 7:30 p.m., all my twinkly lights were on, a candle was lit, and I was in cozy mode, and I didn't care about "missing out" on anything.

A lot of times, especially as a blogger, I feel this constant nagging to be productive - to establish new routines, to brain storm big ideas, to be busy. Sometimes, especially post-graduate school, I'm simply not busy, and sometimes, I don't feel like being intentional with my time...and I think that's okay. Those are the times when we discover our new favorite novel, or binge our new favorite show. I think we're all familiar with the glorification of "being busy" in this day and age, but that's another post for another day.

When was the last time you allowed yourself to do absolutely nothing productive? And then on top of that - to not feel guilty about it?