Sunday. Don’t want to go to work tomorrow. Don’t want to go to work period. Just flat out don’t want to go to work. Would like to do most anything otherwise. But, I’m going to work; I am. I’ll be there at 8am, just like the rest of those paid suckers. Doesn’t mean I can’t complain.
As much as I hate the end of daylight savings time for having to leave work in the dark, a little part of me likes it because it it somehow fools me into feeling less lazy with that post-work time. Since it’s dark outside when I get home every evening, I feel less wasteful not taking advantage of the remaining post-work daylight to “get something done.” With no post-work daylight, assuming a position on the couch as soon as I’ve kicked off my shoes and splashed the days’ grease off my face at the sink is just easier to abide. Thing is, even with the extended hours of sunlight daylight savings time affords me, I don’t do much with it. The difference is purely psychological, but it works for me.
This weekend, we finally got some rain. I think it rained all night Saturday – I mean, as far as I could tell in the few times I awoke. I’ve written before about how much I love the rain, sometimes, and this year we’ve been pretty much entirely dry until now. I actually got up early and mowed the lawn at 8am that day, the earliest I dared on the weekend with sleeping neighbors. I beat the rain by a few hours, and it felt good to be done by 10am. The rest of the day was spent indulging in a triad of manly vices: beer, meat, and football. It was a good day, though, despite likely taking a few days off my life in the long run. Who says that’s not a valid trade, anyway, I mean, I had a good time.
I guess, looking back on last week’s lack of writing, that my triumphant return to work had me reeling more than I thought. Despite feeling like I walked back and and picked up where I left off without a hitch, it instead seems that I was indeed adjusting to the grind again. Getting back into the habit of hearing my BlackBerry chirp through the night, heralding each new e-mail piling up in my inbox; trying to re-commit to my short-term memory the unimportant dates which are so important to what I do; and re-establishing those all-important “networking” links by having half-work/half-not “catch-up” meetings with coworkers. In the evenings, I went back to my no-laptop-while-Keaton’s-awake policy, and that hurt the blogging too. Hopefully it gets better… but the fact that I’m forsaking friends right now to type this should speak to my dedication.
Unfortunately, I don’t have more in me. Goodnight.
Also written on this day...
- wal mart again - 2018
- cisterns, stanchions, & meade - 2009
- i got nothing - 2004
- playing with fire - 2003