The Trap of Later and My Tuesday Off

After being both reckless and cautious with my PTO last year, I found myself halfway through March with about a day and half that wouldn’t roll over past the end of the month. That’s how I ended up taking yesterday—a random Tuesday where I’d usually be in the office—completely off. 

I’m meticulous with my vacation time. I want to use it to travel or to visit family or to go to an average of 4 weddings a year for the past 5 years. Because of that, having a random week day off with no guests to entertain or doctors appointments to attend to had me curious. 

For the last month, I’ve been collecting burnout symptoms like they’re Pokemon cards. Because of this, I felt pressure to get the day right. Should I focus on catching up on some personal projects? Should I bring a blanket and two books to the park? Should I go on a baking spree or a super long run or should I finally organize my closet?

I woke up at 6:11. The night before, I’d decided to start my morning at my favorite coffee shop with a hot tea and a stack of unfinished Smile blogs. Only upon arriving did I realize they are closed on Tuesdays. Every Tuesday. A piece of information that would have never crossed my radar. Suddenly the day felt unsteady. Should I go somewhere else? Where else would I go? It’s already 7:10, I bet all the good seats at the other coffee shops are taken.

I came home, downed an entire water bottle, and then remembered it was 7:15 in the morning and I had an entire day unplanned in front of me. It turns out I could do anything.

I tracked down an old Instagram post I’d shared with a friend about coffee shops in Queens and was immediately drawn to Ngatso Cafe, a Tibetan-inspired coffee shop in Woodside with coffee, tea, pastries, and momos, as well as books, art, and other gift items. Located an hour’s walk from home, I figured now was as good a time as any for some fresh air. 

Thus began my day of unplanned adventure. I sat in the cozy cafe catching up on personal emails and messages and writing. At some point, I realized I was hungry and only a few blocks from The Weekender, one of the only Bhutanese restaurants in New York City. Since traveling to Bhutan last October (and before really) I’ve been eager to visit. Why not today?

Am I doing too much? I have food at home and it is kind of random to just go by myself at 1:00 pm on a Tuesday. I could just pick up donuts from Purple Dough, the Filipino bakery across the street and go home. But they don’t open until 2:00 and wouldn’t it be a lot to stay in Woodside until 2:00? I was going to make lentils and bake oatmeal today!

At first waiting until 2:00 for donuts sounded absurd. As did going out to eat at a sit down restaurant on a whim. But did I not have the day off? And was I not free of any real schedule? 

I went to The Weekender. I ordered aloo dum and kakur jaju (pumpkin soup and really what I’d come for) and then tucked my phone and my book away. I waited to be transported back to the magic of Bhutan. To memories of the foggy mountains. To street dogs and perfectly brewed tea and fresh picked guava. 

I closed my eyes and sipped slowly, the pumpkin stew settling on my tongue. And in that moment, I realized how quickly we fall into the trap of later. 

I’ve always wanted to try that restaurant. That movie has been on my radar. I’ve heard great things about that museum. I’ve been meaning to call.   

Later we’ll have time for things. Later we’ll go and do it. Later, when life is calmer or when this is behind us or after this week or once this event happens. Then we’ll be able to do it. Then we’ll be able to live.

But the problem is there will always be stuff. There will always be reasons not to. If on. my. day. off. I could think of endless excuses to come home instead of staying out enjoying a mind bogglingly beautiful spring day… what else might I be selling myself short on?

I want to get myself out of the trap of later. Because there is no later. There’s just right now. 

And in  yesterday’s right now, I wanted to take a leisurely walk through the borough. I wanted to savor a matcha latte in a new coffee shop. I wanted to try the Bhutanese restaurant and feel the comfort of a place so far from where I call home. I wanted to lazily loiter waiting for the bakery and I wanted to bring home donuts to cut into sampling sizes on a small plate to be eaten from pajamas on the sofa as Tuesday’s sun disappeared through the shades.

I’m going to finish this blog soon. And usually my mind would be split at this point between finishing the post and what comes next. But right now, there is no next. There’s just me writing this post. And then there will be me doing something else. 

Hopefully, beyond days off, I will do better to remember to not put off until tomorrow the joy I could experience today.