I had a great weekend.

I did absolutely nothing.

And it was everything to me.

I ate and drank.

And I did happen to fit in a couple of showers.

And a nap.

And a workout.

I decided not to pressure myself to write anything this weekend if I didn’t want to.

So I wrote this weird poem.

I decided my life – at least this weekend, would play out as a lazy dream.

I recharged my battery – and I’m not talking about the one on my phone; I actually let that one drain.

I also didn’t read a single bit of news.

I was quite literally in my own little world this weekend.

I received a handwritten letter in the mail from my aunt; how many people actually handwrite letters these days???

I took my dogs to the park.

I watched a dove as it rested on my balcony.

I enjoyed the simple taste of water.

I listened to some music.

Now, as Sunday comes to a close, I wonder if I should ever leave my own little world?

Or maybe I should gradually take pieces of it into upcoming workweeks until my own little world consumes my whole week?

Why are weekends only 2 days?

Do I really need all the things I tell myself I need during the workweek?

What if I don't need anything at all?

The thought has crossed my mind to call in sick tomorrow – so I can take my dogs to the park again.

Rat race, you're the elephant in the room. No one wants to discuss you or do anything about you, but you're there -- stepping all over everyone. We talk like you're normal, like you're humane.

I'm breaking up with you, rat race. I'm won't sugarcoat it for you. It's not me -- indeed, it's you. I won't be spoken to that way again.

Slowly but surely, I am mentally separating myself from the brainwashed, society-endorsed confines of the rat race, one carefree weekend at a time. It’s only a matter of time before the physical separation happens.

Every step away from you, rat race, is bold and brave. Every step, no matter how small, is a symbol of self-respect and yet another piece of my life retrieved.