It’s nice to do nothing. Not that “nothing” is precisely what I’ve been doing; but rather, compared to my normal day, this is like doing nothing. I slept in, got up, read a bit of Calvin’s commentary on Jeremiah, listened to a sermon by Mark Driscoll (for reasons which may, or may not, become apparent later), worked a bit on a novel (for Travis’s edification, it was Memorial Stone, which is roughly 40% complete right now—I’ll get back to editing The 13th Prime sometime this week too), and then played Guitar Hero for a bit. Normally, I would have gotten up not so late, rode the bus into town, hit on a girl at the local café (or, if no femmes present, talked about Lost with the guys there), then gone to work, deleted spam, and yell at the scanner machine while sighing about the abysmal reading comprehension skills inherent in both field and service center staff, yelled at the machine some more because of how it always breaks and jams, yelled the design of our new forms which jam more often than our old forms, yelled a bit more at the machine, then gone to lunch, after which I would have repeated everything again.
It’s amazing that my day of “nothing” is so much more fruitful than my typical day. Ahhhhhhh.
BTW, don’t get me wrong. On the whole, I like my job (or I wouldn’t have been there for 14 years and counting). But there’s a reason we get vacations. It’s actually a Biblical reason, and has to do with the same reason that we get weekends. If for no other reason, atheists should be down on their knees thanking God He insisted on Sabbaths.
