I remember a time when weekends meant no work. I mean literally. Wake whenever, do whatever, overeat, fool around on the computer, watch tv till your eyes burn, listen to music so loud and hard you know you’re inducing deafness, sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat, switching order of activities at will. Actually, come to think of it, those weren’t just weekends, they were the average day.
Now, things are very different. Not entirely in a bad way, but sometimes you just don’t want things to have changed, so much.
People around always indicated it would only get worse, at least in the sense of more involved, more responsibility, more complicated and so on as time went on. Of course, I never believed them. I was, like everyone else, in the constant state of believing, “this is the hardest stretch, it will obviously be smoother sailing from now on”.
Not that it was ever “hard”, but when you’re insanely lazy, things could always be better. Yes, just plain greedy. And no, I don’t plan to change.
Weekends now involve work like any other day. Probably a little less “real” work, but there is tons of other “realer” life stuff that you have to catch up on. And I don’t mean the fun stuff. I mean arbitrary necessary evils, like the cleaning and washing sorts of things.
Strangely, these are good times too.
I guess I am older and wiser and all that sort of thing. Well, older anyway. Because, they don’t bother me as much as I thought they would. I almost, *shudder*, enjoy doing random things like cleaning up, (re)decorating, (re)arranging furniture and all the other “mundane choresy stuff” which I never imagined I’d do, let alone “not hate” doing, let alone enjoy doing.
I’ve always liked learning and related intellectual pursuits, but at my own pace. Sometimes waay faster, and sometimes a lot slower than was “expected” of a person in different areas during earlier schooling. This tends to put me off, since after a point you aren’t doing things because you want to, but because you have to.
Again, in that front too, things are different, very. I spend a lot of time reading things, learning, “working” etc, at my own pace, and only what I really want to do. That automatically removes the clear definition of work and tends to blur it with play. It can’t be work if it’s fun sort of thing.
Yes, good times.
I wonder where that little con man inside who tends to avoid any sort of work (where “work” is an all encompassing catch everything term that even includes activities like moving, communicating, non-essential thinking, …) is. But, I don’t need him to know, “good as it may be, this is the hardest stretch, it will obviously be smoother sailing from now on”.