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Monday, Jul. 05, 2004 / 8:09 p.m. ~On Day #4 of 5: It's Official, I'm Bored~ How many times today have I reminded myself this is Monday? And how many times have I reminded myself that most people had today off? Okay. So what will tomorrow be like? And why do I have to think of it in five-day-work-week terms? I start in with the, "Okay, so really it's like today is Saturday. Really this is Saturday night and tomorrow is Sunday, but really it's Monday and tomorrow's Tuesday, but it's sort of like it's a Saturday, so I can pretend it's Saturday and then I can relax, repeat RELAX." But there's that 'to-do' list with nothing checked off, and it felt like a big deal when I sat and balanced my checkbook, and the fact I'm almost caught up on my "GL"s on tape is kind of an accomplishment in itself, and well, I did wash dishes, when was that?, Friday? I've relaxed, I'm rested, and isn't that what vacations are for? The ol' "R&R"? I'm so good at that part. But there's this 'pressure' inherent in time away from work, pressure to have fun, pressure to do things that don't normally get done, pressure to have more time, to utilize that time, all the time, time, TIME, there's so much TIME, and then it starts to feel like it's dripping through my fingers, the holes between the knuckles, the proverbial sand in the hourglass that is my hand all scrunched up trying to hold it in. Durr. I keep the computer on so I can check email, ostensibly, and the TV on for entertainment, but even with five billion channels available I ended up watching "Jaws" last night, for the one gazillionth time. And how many episodes of MTV's "Cribs" can a person stand? It's a wonder my sleeping dreams were not bling-filled. I even slept on the sofa, pure decadence, waking in the middle of the night to do the requisite washing and flossing and brushing. Shouldn't there be, mmmm, I don't know, more? I've been watching the temp in my task bar, the Live WeatherBug thing, and at some point heard the actual heat index number on the local news, and 96 is just too fucking hot, I can't even see opening the door knowing it's an oven 'out there', so how do I 'go out and do things'?? What 'things'? Egad, all the usual things that remain on the to-do list, all the things that I really ought to do, but when I really mustn't do anything, when I'm here without obligation at all, to anyone but the cats in their twice daily feeding and numerous times throughout the day litter box scooping, well, this sitting around doing nothing comes so damned naturally. So why do I always feel so lousy about it? I feel myself sinking into it like a weary traveler into his splurge-y first class compartment on the Eurorail, no, wait, bad analogy, okay, sinking into it like me sinking into the futon sofa on a day off, yeah, that's it, and yet I feel so damned... I don't know, guilty? Resentful? Angry at myself? No, comfortable, and decadent, and happy, but worried at all that I neglect. That's it. Worried that I neglect so much. Such a perfectionist that I cannot even consider starting any one of numerous projects (ack, the "P-word"!) without serious consideration and forethought, and angry that I don't partake thereof. Such blathering about nothing. And with these five days away from work come five days with little to no human interaction, self-imposed hermit lifestyle that I live, and this, too, feels odd at best. Honestly? I feel like I just want to go lie down on the sofa and watch "Giant" on TCM. And typing here, now, I feel my fingernails have grown long again, and again it's time to manicure them. Ah, no, that implies 'work', and I think the whole point of all of this is that this is a VACATION from WORK and so therefore I feel no desire to do anything resembling WORK. There, now that I've rationalized it all away - Outside=Heat Index of Way Too High Number, Inside=Coolness, and NO WORK either way - I'm good. I can do this. So, this is my Saturday night, time to do whatever is done on a Saturday night, whilst it's a Sunday to the rest of the people, and in reality, though we'll ignore reality for now, I think it may in fact be Monday. Cost of the War in Iraq
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