When every day is Saturday
Saw a great quote, recently, dealing with the enthusiasm the average employee has for that day just before some time off. Call it “Friday”. I’ve been there, and if it wasn’t for that final sprint before down time, most of us wouldn’t even bother. I’m not counting those who are responsible for other life (think “farmer”) with a job that runs seven days per. No, this is the traditional “pay me and I’ll continue to toil on your behalf” employee. Which brings us to me, here and now.
I no longer have a “Friday” on my calendar. Hey, if you will, every day is “Saturday”. Wonderful lifestyle, but there’s a flip side; it’s much harder to stay motivated, and the measure of your own accomplishment is stressful. Today I did the groceries. Full stop. Tomorrow, I have no plans. Trip and fall.
The advice to “look around you; there’s so much to do” is sound. Almost an echo. The idea of “get some new interests” conflicts with all those other interests that I’m just not tending. My virtual garden is starting to grow weeds. I’d post pictures, but, well, you know…
Maybe I should convince the dog to come outside and chill with me. In the cold. In the dark. Under cloudy skies with a scent of rain. Nope. He gave me that derisive grunt and went back to sleep. Maybe tomorrow; call me. There’s always musical practice, I guess. I could start the shower and then hum a few bars of this or that. Or maybe go off to the corner and finish a good book. Reading, not writing.
