I finally had a day where I had nowhere to be, and nothing to do. I'd planned on going out on my father's boat to the beach for the day. I haven't had a chance all summer, what with work, people visiting, obligations, and trying to market Catching Bodel. So it would stand to reason that this morning, when I woke up to see full cloud cover and a cold breeze, I would have been devastated. I was however, relieved.
Living on Cape Cod, I feel an almost obligation to enjoy what makes the cape so attractive to tourists. I love the beach, truly I do. But I don't go in the summer very often. Largely, that's due to my summer work schedule, but I could still get there if I really tried. But I don't. Because the reality is that I don't like the beach in the summer because it's full of people. That might sound harsh, but it's just my reality. I'm an introvert, and the beach is my sanctuary. I like to go there to be alone, to walk and listen to the wind and the waves. I don't go to cling to a tiny little square of sand surrounded by shouting children, overly enthusiastic college kids trying too hard to have a good time, people who make very daring fashion decisions, and the countless others who populate the beach. Everyone is there to have a good time, and I'm all for that. My good time just doesn't include lots of people. So on a day like today, while the beach would have been nice, I was delighted that it was overcast and I had an excuse to just stay home.
Sometimes it's hard to take time for myself, because when push comes to shove, what I like to DO is, well, NOTHING. I don't like going out very much. I love movies, but don't want to be in a crowded theater. That's why I love the drive-in, because I am outside and get a lot of space to myself. I love the beach, but only when no one is on it. So I go in the winter, fall and spring. I like to walk in the woods (what little woods we have on this sandbar), but again, only when the paths aren't clogged with people. This is not an anti-tourist rant. The economy of the Cape depends on tourism, and people should come and enjoy themselves. I just choose not to join them. I'll stay home, read a book in my hammock in the back yard. I'll let the tortoise wander around the yard and follow him around aimlessly. I'll sunbathe on the private beach known as my back deck. I'll take my overcast days and hold them close, because they are my favorite. That probably makes me different, but I'm used to that.