There is no school today.  Still, the fact that you get to sleep in on a Monday gives you the sense that you are playing hooky--giving up on rules and restrictions and deciding to play the day away while others toil their way through nine to five (although you love your nine to five too). 

The day is an open book.  Where to go...what to do? 

The sunlight beckons you out of doors, while the kitchen calls you to conjure up meals--here some breakfast quinoa, there a salad safely tucked inside a mason jar, perhaps even some roasted veggies for dinner.  You toy with the idea of crafting, coating paper in glitter and ink, wrapping unused jars in ribbon--a holder for your loose buttons and ephemera.  

You briefly entertain the idea of getting ahead on your work, from revising old prompts to organizing cabinets--but quickly dismiss the idea.  It would only spoil the day.  And you know the thought is only brought on by some vague sense that you should be doing something useful, productive, keeping up that facade of busyness. 

No, today is not a day for extra work, but for indulging in those weekend-like pleasures Monday doesn't usually afford--a leisurely breakfast, a morning in the kitchen, an afternoon at the park and visiting family.  There will be plenty of other Mondays to refine those lesson plans, to enjoy your cruise to work, but for today you savor the long stretch of time rolled out before you that will be filled on a whim, moment to moment, each impromptu plan a distillation of pure enjoyment.