Memorial Day weekend is just around the corner, and I can’t wait. Having three days off work — and tomorrow I’ll be working from home, just like everyone else who’s able to, who doesn’t want to get stuck in Friday afternoon holiday traffic.
It’s unfortunate that I feel this way. Once upon a time, I loved my work. I couldn’t wait to do it, each and every day. I didn’t like weekends, and I even worked on my skills on Saturdays and Sundays.
No more. The things I once loved to do are lost to me – ever since my TBI in 2004, the way my brain processes information changed, so I can’t do the level of coding I once did. I also get tired more quickly, so that keeps me from working long hours at it, as well.
Oh, well. I have other things in my life that brighten my day. And I’ll have three days to do them, this weekend. Work in my garden, work around the house, work in my yard. Lots of outdoor activities — providing the weather holds.
That, and catching up on reading, maybe doing some writing, and working on some projects I’ve recently revived.
I’ve got plenty to do. I’m just feeling a certain sense of loss over not counting my day-job as something I look forward to doing.
I sometimes dream of winning the lottery. But then I get depressed. So, I try not to do that, anymore.
I just keep going. Just keep going. Till I get where I’m supposed to go.
It’s going to be great, having the time to myself, this weekend. Time to think. Time to rest. Time to move at my own pace. Bliss. Sheer bliss.
But until then, it’s work-time. And I’m about to launch into that in another 25 minutes. Just enough time to get myself prepped for my first conference call.