Escape
"That's it. I'm done. I'm outta here", job done, mike drop, sayonara, Elvis has left the building.
It's only Wednesday and that's the third time this week you've said that, but this time you really mean it. Well, at least until the morning anyway.
The cold plastic of the chair beneath the worn out fabric of your only suit feels cold. Did you not put the timer on the heating again? Feels like it. The wobbly wooden desk propping up your achingly tired old laptop feels cold beneath your wrists, as they rest on the cheap plastic trim, waiting for Windows to boot up, praying that you don't see the dreaded "Please don't turn off your computer while we perform updates".
No message, you make a mental note to put your lottery on this week.
After a short eternity, you're greeted by a huge, slobbering black Labrador. He's looking directly at you with a tennis ball in his mouth, looking like a cross between daffy duck and Cujo. Nevertheless, he's staring at you, the first comforting thing you've seen today.
Your phone buzzes quietly on the desk, and as you reach over to puck it up, you notice a couple of fine, sinewy cobwebs at the back of the desk which will need dealing with later. Picking up the phone you hear the comforting tones of your wife. "yeah, not as bad as I thought", you answer, lying. "She continues for a few minutes, telling you about her day and how the bloody dog's ruined another table leg, mum's go another appointment next Tuesday, do you think you could get the day off.....
The day's rubbish begins to float into the recycle bin of memory as you chat and listen. Nothing earth shattering, just life. By the time you end the call, you feel normal (ish) again. Normal enough to get back to the task in had.
You run your hand over the laptop trackpad JUST in time, as the screensaver tries to make an appearance. Small victories my friend, small victories.
Word is waiting, the cursor blinks, "Yes master Wayne", you hear in your mind.
"Ok Alfred", you chuckle, "let's go somewhere".
Busy doing Nothing.
Ok, I’ll admit it, I mean it’s not like I’d be telling you something you didn’t already know now is it? . Being on holiday is SO boring. Yes, you heard me right. BORING.
Why on gods green earth did you decide to take TWO weeks off?. I mean, ok, point conceded, one week’s just not enough is it. Fair comment. There’s only so much nothing you can do in a week. No matter what you do, there’s just too much monotony to cram in when you only “really” have a week off.
No matter how you cut it, its always the same. "Ok, so I’m off Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. TIMES TWO. Great, lovely jubbly" you think.
Except it never is ,is it?
Here’s what actually happens, and I dare you to tell me different.
It gets to 4pm on the Friday before your two weeks off. You’re a little light headed, you know, a slightly better mood than usual, possibly even making the odd wise crack around the office / depot / common room, whatever. The prospect ahead of you of fourteen days of sheer freedom feels slightly intoxicating. Perhaps your fingers tingle a little (but that one might just be me !)
So, Saturday (day 1). A small lie in. Perhaps 10 a.m. By lunchtime, you’ve already come up with minimum 3 reasons why you wont wash the car today. Possibly too windy, or more than likely, you’ll just do it later. A bit of channel surfing and a few trips to the fridge, and it’s (day 2).
Repeat day 1
So, FINALLY, day 3, Monday, the "real" DAY 1. A small lie in, perhaps 11 a.m. Lunch. Ok, what abut the car. Oh, plenty of time to do that. Your better half wants to go shopping, but, they doesn’t really need you there do they?. Of course not. Maybe, Ill just have a sit with the paper or read a book this afternoon. Well, what do you know, its (day 3).
I would go on, but were all adults here, there’s no need to get too graphic. Let’s just insert the odd, “ooh, YouTube”, and “yes but there’s a game on”, or “I was going to do that next / last week” and you'll get the picture.
By day 13, when your “small” lie in finishes circa.5pm and the inevitable remorse sets in at the realization you have accomplished the square root of nothing, you come to the frightening conclusion that your are genuinely looking forward to getting back to work, because that's the place where you should be doing nothing.