The Good Thing About Working Way Too Much . . .

. . . is not what you think it is. (I wonder what anyone would suspect the benefit is.) The real benefit is the perspective.

Back in my crazy, workaholic days (i.e. two weeks ago), I averaged about seven hours a day to myself. That actually sounds like a lot of time. Let me assure you that it’s not. That seven hours included getting ready for work, commuting (not far, but every 15 minutes counts), doing laundry, checking the mail, eating breakfast and / or dinner, occasionally putting dishes in the dishwasher (although this usually wouldn’t happen until my roommate called from the airport to tell me she’d landed), maintaining some sort of minimal contact with the outside world (that kind of fell by the wayside), and, my personal favorite, sleeping. But I digress.

The benefit is in the perspective. I haven’t worked more than ten hours a day in more than a week now, and boy, do I feel like a slacker. I get home in plenty of time to take the trash out. There are other people around when I get my mail. I listen to the BBC World Service by choice these days, not just because no one’s talking on NPR. I have all the time in the world.

I think all this time on my hands is starting to make me a little stir crazy.

Miss a Day . . .

Stories you won’t be hearing:

• The day I discovered that my car really does have anti-lock brakes
• The Easter dinner I had on Valentine’s Day
• The conversation that began with someone asking me “What’s wrong with your face?”
• The week where my goal everyday was to get home in time to take out the trash
• The night I got in an argument with a checker at Stop & Shop
• How I got an iPod shuffle for free through effective procrastination
• The week I got weepy over the Today Show
• The day I got to have lunch

Okay, that last one probably wouldn’t have been much of a story anyway. But I remember that day fondly. It was two weeks ago today and I still remember those 20 minutes in the cafeteria with a sense of nostalgia.

I’ve been working a bit. Perhaps more than a bit. I’ve definitely had a few things to write about (see above list), just not a moment to put fingers to keyboard. What’s a workaholic to do?