Doing Absolutely Nothing

As the first light of Sunday morning crept through the curtains, Isabella awoke to an unfamiliar sensation—silence. No emails pinging her phone, no calendar notifications reminding her of back-to-back meetings, and, most importantly, no urgent texts from her boss demanding revisions on the project that was due last Friday.

She lay still for a moment, her perfectly coiffed career-woman exterior cracked ever so slightly by the allure of a rare, completely work-free day. Her brain, usually buzzing like a well-oiled, over-caffeinated machine, slowly began to process the notion that this could be it—a day off. Not just any day off, but one of those mystical, mythical days where she could do nothing but exist in her natural habitat: oversized shirt, underwear, and socks, and her most crucial accessory—her glasses.

She sighed in contentment, the white shirt she had grabbed from her closet last night now her only defense against the outside world. Not that she needed one, of course. On days like this, no one could make her leave the sanctuary of her apartment.

Isabella, by all accounts, was a modern-day warrior. She battled boardrooms filled with aggressive, power-hungry colleagues and demanding clients, all while dressed in the sharpest, most expensive designer clothing that screamed authority and "Don't even think about messing with me." Her heels? Well, let's just say some of them cost more than the rent of her first apartment, and she didn't dare check her credit card balance out of fear she'd faint from seeing the amount she'd racked up in "investments in success."

But not today.

Today was hers, and hers alone. She padded across the hardwood floors of her impeccably clean and meticulously decorated apartment, headed straight to the kitchen. Her oversized shirt brushed her thighs as she moved, a far cry from the tailored pantsuits and pencil skirts she wore to the office. She threw open the cupboard and grabbed the bag of popcorn she'd been dreaming about all week, quickly tossing it into the microwave. The comforting sound of popping kernels filled the air.

She took a moment to lean against the counter, staring into the living room where her couch, the love of her life, awaited her. The couch was her safe space, her cozy throne where she ruled the kingdom of binge-watching and reading, surrounded by soft blankets, fluffy pillows, and the scent of buttery popcorn.

The ding of the microwave snapped her out of her daydream. She grabbed the bowl, her drink (okay, maybe more like three), and headed for the couch with the determination of someone about to embark on a very important journey—into a day of glorious laziness.

With a satisfied grin, she plopped down on the cushions and arranged everything within easy reach. Phone? Off. Laptop? Closed and far away. Shoes? Ha! Not today, stilettos, not today.

Instead, she stretched her legs out, wiggling her toes in her socks as she grabbed her book. It was one of those fat novels, the kind that has been sitting on her shelf forever, waiting for the day she actually had time to read it. She flipped it open, adjusting her glasses. Her friends had long teased her about wearing such “old-fashioned” glasses, especially given her polished professional image. But to Isabella, those oversized round frames were her ultimate comfort, the thing that made her feel like her most authentic, relaxed self.

She was about three pages in when the popcorn began to call to her. Abandoning the book, she switched over to her next activity: marathon movie watching. Today, it was going to be a rom-com day—Isabella loved the predictability of it all. Girl meets boy. Girl and boy fight. Girl and boy fall in love. Unlike her career, where nothing seemed predictable except the stress. She smiled as she hit play, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth and feeling a sense of calm she hadn’t felt in weeks.

Hours passed, and aside from the occasional refill of her drink or a quick trip to the bathroom, Isabella didn’t move. She didn’t even glance at her work phone, which sat, long forgotten, on the other side of the room.

By late afternoon, she had made it through two movies, half the bowl of popcorn, and enough chapters of her book to finally know all the characters' names. The sunlight that had poured in that morning was now fading, casting a warm glow over her apartment. A sense of guilt crept into the back of her mind—shouldn't she at least check her email? Maybe there was something important waiting for her. But then, she reminded herself, this was her day. She had earned it.

With a dramatic sigh, Isabella lay back, letting herself sink deeper into the couch cushions. She adjusted her glasses and smiled, knowing that the world could wait.

Sure, tomorrow she would step back into her heels, don the armor of the fashion elite, and tackle whatever madness the office threw at her. But today? Today was for oversized shirts, comfy socks, popcorn, and rom-coms. Today, Isabella was the queen of doing absolutely nothing.

And it was glorious.