So, it’s back to work for me, finally, after a few days off this week. I used to be all about happily working the week between Christmas and New Year’s. I mean, Let’s face it, if there’s going to be a stretch at any point during the year when things will slow down and bring the low-key, it’d be these 5 work days.
In other words, this week was made for slackin’, and I used to take all kinds of advantage of that.
That was back in The Day, though, when I didn’t have so much else in the way of responsibilities. Back then, I horded my time off to use for going on actual on vacation. You know, like on a trip, where you go someplace else, take a bunch of pictures, and drink the local specialty beverage until you find yourself worshiping at the cool porcelain altar at 2 am. Which, coincidentally, is about when you find yourself wondering why you thought it’d be a good idea to drink two quarts of cherry red rum slushy since now that you’re seeing it again and it resembles a cubist expression of a crime scene, it’s decidedly less appealing.
Ahem, I digress. Now, where was I?
Oh, so, instead of ferreting my vacation days away for adventures in foolishness, I use them these days to take advantage of extra time with the family. The kids, obviously, are off school until next week, so spending a day or two at home after Christmas is exceedingly well-spent. You get to enjoy watching them use/play with/bicker over all their new gifts, and basically just be carefree kids. In addition, it’s a great time to do things that don’t fit in so well with the usual routine.
For instance, yesterday, my last day off before re-applying my nsoe to the grindstone, the Puddinette and I took the whole family to the local Hibachi place for lunch. Admittedly, I’m a little confused about use of the term "hibachi", because I thought that was a little grill doo-dad whereas the style of table-side dining with they guy having the fancy knife skills that balances eggs on a flipper and flings pieces of food into your mouth was called "teppanyaki". Whatever you call it, though, the kids, Attitude included, thought the big show was a lot of fun.
In fact, there are few things are neat as when a 3 year-old gapes at a flaming onion volcano and says, "WOoooooooW!"
As an extra special treat I made homemade pizza for dinner. Not to be outdone by the well-trained guy at the Japanese place, I even tossed the dough around a bit for theatrical value. Luckily it managed to stay above the floor. In the end, apparently the kids decided my pizzaiolo skills aren’t too shabby, because they said it was the best pizza ever. While I don’t know about all that, it did look pretty good. What do you think?
The best part, of course, was simply in having a day with no real agenda. We did what we wanted and it all rocked. I suspect that’s largely for the exact reason that we were beholden to no one, and after a whirlwind of holiday activity, that’s exactly what the MD ordered. Don’t get me wrong, Christmas is a whole lot of fun, especially when you have kids falling in the age range that we do. But what they don’t tell you is that it can be just plain exhausting too.
There was a time in one’s life when staying up half the night could give way to getting up early and spending the next two days with various and sundry other people outside of home. But that, too, was back in The Day. Nowadays I struggle somewhat falling in bed at 3 AM and following it up with a full weekend of, um, I don’t know, other stuff.
In my advanced age, then, it seems that if you put that kind of itinerary together, it’s a formula for making me narcoleptic by mid-afternoon on the third day. And really, it’s a bit embarrassing when I start to snore softly, chin-to-chest, at 2:30 in the afternoon.
And let’s not kid ourselves, I’ve never snored softly in my entire life. The Puddinette will attest.
Anyway, I’m back with my shoulder to the wheel today, but not before taking a day to just enjoy a little time off. And enjoy it, I did.
Now, if I can just struggle through the rest of this week and reach New Year’s in one piece.
But I guess a two-day work week really isn’t too awful.
Pud’n
Puddintopia 