Harry Was Right

Today is my first day back to work since the middle of December. I'm grateful to have a job-I no longer enjoy it, but I've reached an age where not enjoying what I do for a living is part of the price I pay for being alive. If punching the clock is what it takes to stay ahead of the Grim Reaper, lace up the ten ounce gloves and tell me where the neutral corner is.

I still subscribe to Noel Coward's "Work should be more fun than fun" position and believe that it should be the most fun I can have with my clothes on. But it isn't; and it hasn't been in sometime and I don't think I'll find the magic for it to be that way in my office desk drawer today, though that would be a hoot and half.

Fortunately, for all of us, but especially you, what I do for a living isn't important and (more especially for me) isn't difficult either physically or mentally. Today, the first day back, will be painful for all of us as I've made a terrible discovery that the salubrious effects of vacation disappear more rapidly now than they did five or ten years ago.

Back in those halcyon days, it would take until later in the same week before the grind and routine caught up with me-now it's just later that same morning. If you need to speak with me, I'd hold off until next week since I'm probably not much like a day at the beach today.

I have a whole new routine for going to work and am still sorting that out. I still start the work day with some cross-training (not to be confused with cross-dressing which I gave up for Lent a number of years ago, severely disappointing all the girls in the convent) but now I have a machine in our basement so I don't have to hit the gym on my way in every morning.

In theory, it frees up more of my more productive morning hours (in my case, all characterizations involving productivity are relative and ALL of my relatives work harder than I do) so if the stars shine a little brighter, the wind howls a little softer or the snows seem to be falling with an added urgency, that's more than likely my handiwork and you're welcome.

Unless, of course, I decide today's the day I harmonize with Harry in which case all bets are off.
-bill kenny