On the Dead Week
There’s rarely a time in my life when I feel like there isn’t something more important I should be doing. When I’m sleeping, I could be working out. When I’m working out, I could be reading. When I’m reading, I could be writing. When I’m writing, I could be looking for a real job that would give me health insurance and some stability in my life. When I’m looking for real jobs, I could be doing LITERALLY anything else because it’s SO BORING. There is one time of year though, when doing nothing feels like the only thing that needs doing…and that’s the dead week.
The dead week is that glorious week between Christmas and New Year’s when there’s nothing to do. Most people are off work, many businesses are closed, and all responsibilities are put off into “next year” because that’s a joke that never gets old (just kidding, I hate it). It’s a period that feels disconnected from reality… like it exists in a pocket dimension separate from all other spaces and times. It’s a period to watch that show you’ve been meaning to watch, to spend all day reading that trashy romance novel that’s been sitting on your nightstand, to play so many video games that your 14-year-old self would weep with pride.
It does feel quite strange, however, to exist in this liminal space when it feels like nothing matters. Of course, I’m going to order pizza multiple times this week, my diet starts in the new year. Of course, I’m going to put off cleaning up my apartment, that’s something Future Will should deal with. Of course, I have no idea if it is Tuesday or Friday or Sunday…days of the week don’t matter during the dead week…because NOTHING matters in the dead week.
When so much of our lives are predicated on counting (steps, and hours of sleep, and KPI [key performance indicators for those of you not living in corporate future hellscape]) living in a week where nothing counts is like that first fish that scooched up onto land 375 million years ago and saw the bounty that awaited outside of its aquatic prison. It gives us a chance to see what the world could be like if we threw off the shackles of responsibility and simply did whatever we wanted all the time.
Sure, my tummy hurts the entire week from eating nothing but garbage. Sure, the floor is covered with clothes that aren’t quite dirty but aren’t quite clean. Sure, my whole body hurts from doing nothing but slouching on the couch…but STILL, like that first Tiktaalik roseae crawling out of the ocean and looking up at the stars for the first time, I’m blinded by the light of what could be.
The dead week may be a place and time where I kinda let things get away from me for a moment…or 5 days of moments, but it’s also the only time of year when, at its conclusion, I feel ready to tackle the world like I was shot out of a cannon! So, here’s to more dead weeks, to more afternoon orders of Dominos when you have salad in the fridge, to more binging entire shows without remorse, to more pure relaxation in preparation of a more productive tomorrow!
So, what’d you do during this year’s dead week?
Dead week is literally the only week I put no pressure on myself. I read my Christmas present books, clean out my office, sleep in a bit, count my blessings and balance that with my deep regrets on things as much as 40 years ago that I could have done differently. All in all, a wash, so when it hits January 2 I decide on my resolution -- which is always a reacheable one. Like I'm going to get new underwear or wash my car at least once in the New Year. And then, full speed ahead.
Consider "dead week" a rehearsal for retirement. Multiply it by 51 (adjusted for visiting grandkids, playing cards with the other codgers, and medical visits) and you have a reasonable approximation.