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There is a Spanish proverb that says, ““The busy man is troubled with but one devil; the idle man by a thousand.” This is not the sort of preachy saying I normally pay any mind to. In fact, if someone said it to me, I’d probably tune out to anything that followed. But.

There’s been a lot of negative mojo swirling around me lately. To cancel it out, I’ve been packing my evenings and weekends with as much fun as I can handle. My sewing lessons have been going gangbusters. I’ve made countless napkins and a few potholders. (Next up are ironing board covers, curtains and baby bibs!) I’ve been doing a great job of being social, which is not always my strength. And I’m doing what I think is most important when you’re trying to shake things up – novel things. The speaking event with Feist and Martin de Thurah at the Contemporary Arts Center last week, some glasswork lessons with Wonder Boy next week and a night out a new local bar / brewery. My goal is that my keeping busy, I won’t be as troubled by the negativity going around me during other parts of my days.

I’m exhausted from so much doing, but I think the plan is working. I’m much happier.

That said, I still have so much negativity around me. Negative people I cannot avoid. And I don’t know what to do with that. I try to help make things more positive, but after a while, that’s exhausting. I remove myself from the situation as much as possible. I tune things out when I can. I try to be pretty obvious about the fact that I won’t engage in too much negative talk. What else is there to do? Negativity can be like a poison and I want an antidote.

I am aware that what I am about to describe will sound absurd to many parents, who don’t have the luxury of such things.

Wonder Boy and I share a row house. The house is actually quite large in terms of square footage – as big as most of my friends’ houses. But the layout means you rarely feel alone. That and the fact that we’re missing a door. Upstairs we can put a door on our bedroom or on my office, but not both.

A few years ago when I was feeling completely overwhelmed by everything and was talking to someone to help calm myself down, I said I just needed time to myself. “Just do it,” she said. “Why can’t you?”

Such a simple reply.

And so the door was moved to my office and now the occasional overnight guest at our house can just embrace any awkwardness they feel at seeing straight into our master bedroom.

Wonder Boy and I have also instituted personal nights every Tuesday. I call it Kate Night and he calls it Wonder Boy Night. The deal is that we can eat whatever and whenever we want. We generally try to stay out of whichever room the other is in. Other than that, we do whatever we want. Wonder Boy has been feeding his golf obsession. I’ve been sewing. Sometimes reading.

This last week I was so run down. The wildly changing weather is exciting for most but wreaks havoc on my lungs. After our mild winter, I’ve known a plague would descend. My main symptom was laryngitis. But I also found myself hot and exhausted every day by about 4, despite the fact that my job requires almost no movement. I went home and napped pretty much all week. Technically, lots of time to myself. But quality time? No.

Yesterday my general demeanor was nasty. Specifics aren’t necessary, but I hit a point of intensely unpleasant. So I grabbed my grandmother’s silver, sat in the kitchen and furiously polished while listening to This American Life. By the end of the hour, I felt better. And it occurred to me that Kate Night really is an important part of my schedule. Missing it for the week threw off my equilibrium.

I tend to take things very literally. If I want to change things in my life, I create, and abide by, rules. So the weekly Kate Night ritual fits inflexible me. I’m curious how other people get their alone time. Exercising? Gardening? Crafting?