What’s better in life than a day off?

Seriously? Is there anything?

I don’t want to sound whiney and overworked, but I’ve been going non-stop for the last month. Between work and flying to Idaho for anything-but-vacation time, I haven’t had a day off since the 1st of the year. Since New Year’s Day. That sucks.

Now, I haven’t been stressed out or splitting at the seams from constant activity – there were a few days that I only worked for a few hours, and I admittedly had some relaxing times in Idaho, but for the most part I haven’t had a day off – by which I mean one day where I had no prior engagements and could do whatever I wanted all day. All day, I say!

I’m a creature that appreciates his personal time. If it wasn’t for personal time, you wouldn’t be reading this blog, and I wouldn’t be writing about books – hell, I wouldn’t be reading books. I’d never have filled an iPod with 1GB worth of songs, let alone the 22GB I’ve got on there. And regardless of how much I appreciate the personal time, the “no work, no prior engagements, just me, or Kerrie and me” time, I appreciate it even more when I get less of it.

Here’s the funny thing. What am I planning to do with my personal time?

Run errands, of course. Get my haircut. Figure out our taxes. Clean out my desk.

Nice, eh?

But you see, this isn’t work to me. This is the kind of thing I like to do when I relax. As I’ve told Kerrie hundreds of times, I can’t fully relax in a messy house, and there’s no way I can fully appreciate my undivided internet/writing/reading time upstairs when I see piles of paperwork to be rustled through.

So, with that, I will get to work. I’ve been waiting four weeks to have the time to do this work – work that I haven’t had time to do because of … well… work.

Am I the only person like this?