Sizing up the Cotttage

I'm off for the rest of 2014. Technically speaking at the most extreme I'll be working fifty-one weeks of 2015 as I'm already on holiday for the entire first week of the New Year.

Maybe you do the same. When I take a bunch of vacation in one large dollop, I decompress from the life I lead as Work Bill-for me that's mostly not getting up at 0230 and rushing until I close my eyes shortly after 2200.

When I have the time off I sleep in until 0600 or  so (in fairness, I should tell you I didn't get up until shortly after 0800 on Saturday though it was a lot earlier this morning). Part of the challenge of having no life is inventing reasons to do things beyond the rut I've dug in my life. And when it seems to be as deep as a grave, that's a signal it may be too late.

I am almost finished with my Christmas shopping, or think I am. I cheated, and am not alone, I did just about all of it on line because I can't do the jingle bell jostle in the stores and malls anymore. I click on stuff and the money to pay for it comes out of accounts I've never seen and migrates to places I'll never go to pay for stuff I'd not yet experienced in real life. These are truly the days of miracle and wonder (I hope).

I'm wondering if my wife will have a project for me today, as she does on many if not most Sundays. She knows I'm home from work for awhile and will be very kind even when I'm less than successful in staying out of her way. She tolerates me flopping around like a fish on a dock because it's for a limited amount of time after which I go back to work and her life returns to normal.

I don't think she sees these interludes as a rehearsal for when I retire, though that is what they are increasingly becoming except for the playing checkers until I pass away part. So far.

I fear if/when she does she'll be considerably less good-humored about having me hanging out and around even if I offer to dig the garden and do the weeds. Especially as she might well ask for more. And as she will discover, I fear, my enthusiasm, emulating my abilities and appetites, continue to decline at a most precipitous rate.
-bill kenny