Work. It's what I do. I enjoy it to a certain extent but I certainly don't have the most exciting job. I do the same thing month after month, year after year and take very little time off. Repeat.
Except I took a week off this December for the WPBT and more recently had 5 days off in a row for the Christmas holiday. Very unusual for me. And it's not like I missed work while I was home/away. Far from it. I was reveling in the fact that I didn't have to get up quite so early, my time was my own, but the most curious thing happened when I got back to work this week.
I settled into doing some mundane tasks; things that usually bore the crap out of me, yet they were oddly comforting. Ahhh back to my old routine. Have coffee, do this, that, the other, solve a few problems, have lunch. More work, more coffee, help some colleagues out, then home.
I don't know why it feels so "right" to be in work. Perhaps because I do my job well and I am appreciated. But maybe it's because I'm a creature of habit and my routine allows me to be on autopilot, while getting alot done. Sense of accomplishment, sense of appreciation plus they pay me.
It makes me think I'd be a wonderful prisoner. Is my little office akin to a prison cell? Maybe. Do I do the same goddam thing at the same goddam time every day? Definitely. Yeah, I think I could do some incarceration time with ease. Give me my routine, a little solitude, and a stack of books and I think I'd be good for about 6 months. :)
Well maybe not. I hear you can't get manicures in prison. Talk about punishment!