Labor Day Weekend
I sat at my dusty desk and ran my fingers through my hair. Not that I'm-too-sexy-for-my-office kind of hair flipping, but that holy-crap-the-worked-piled-up-over-the-holiday hair pulling. I vowed not to turn on my computer over the three day Labor Day weekend. I knew, yes I knew when I made that decision that Tuesday would be email overload, a holiday aftermath so congested with spam that I'd spend an hour sifting through the wreckage. When the last ecrap was deleted however, there were a surprisingly small number of real emails left over. I was overjoyed! I know that's an old word but it just fit the moment. Then the phone began to ring. One, two, three ... 7 calls later and the sweet feeling of joy bumped head over heels down to the black abyss. Where are my banners? Changes, I've got changes and I need them done NOW! I need this, that and the other thing ASAP! My gobbly gook needs to be yabba dabba doooozy - bla bla bla. I'm not surprised though, it's always this way.
It was a nice three day weekend. Sunny, hot (really hot) and relaxing with a little fun thrown in. But always lurking, always gnawing on the fringes of my contentment was the Knowing. Tuesday's coming ... Tuesday's going to suck ... Tuesday's ....... Aarrgh!
But was it worth it? Was it worth that inevitable Tuesday crash to take the three days off? You bet. And I'll do it again. And again. And again. Sometimes I have to unplug and get the hell away from this flat slab of endless toil. Go outside and take a deep breath of unprocessed air. Play with my kids. Play with my hounds. Tinker with my car - and imagine what it would look like in Stardust Blue.
Now it's Tuesday, and I've got to get the ball rolling again.