On how not to be productive.
I had plans for my Holidays, admittedly vague plans but they involved being quite productive and so far it hasn't come to fruition. It's like some imp is stealing all the hours in my day and I find myself yet again readying for bed wondering about all the many things I said I would achieve. So far my days off have consisted of a lot of reading, meeting people for tea and gym classes and I can't tell you what has happened to all the hours in between because it seems they have fallen through the cracks, never to be reclaimed.
And as it happens despite my lack of productivity I'm quite enjoying it. I read a whole book yesterday. That feels like an achievement even though I'm impressing no one but myself and It was a good book that I really enjoyed and I felt like I'd been really productive as though I wasn't really doing it for pleasure.
I've still been waking up at 7 and not getting any more done and I'm starting to think I like this, leisurely days where the most taxing things I do are write a blog post, work out or read a book and I wonder why I'm working at all. But then I remember that I don't actually live in Clonmel anymore and soon everyone will be finished their holidays so I'd be spending inadequate amounts of time on my own and that wouldn't be half as much fun in my apartment.
Also It's worth remembering that I have actually had the 'luxury' of having nowhere to be for six full months after I moved back from Edinburgh and there were no jobs to be had and instead of being a relaxing time, It brought me to the edge of madness. Not working is really only fun if it's in contrast to something because it's not time off if there's nothing to be off from.
Maybe I'll even be missing work come Tuesday but I wouldn't bet on it, Mostly I just worry about the children's books not being tidied or reordered or silly things like that. I have been told already that I worry too much about that sort of thing but surely that's what makes me good at my job. You don't see anyone else reading quite so many teenage books or books full stop.
There's nothing better than having an hour or two to lose yourself entirely in a good book and I have a temptingly tall stack I brought home to sustain me during the many free hours I hoped to have.
I have a few more days off in which I hope to continue practicing the art of not being productive, I think at this stage I've gotten it down to a fine art.
Tomorrow I've taken a day off doing nothing to go clothes shopping in Cork and at this stage I feel it will be less like a leisurely expedition and more like a military operation, it is one of those rare occasions where I actually have money for clothes and I do intend to spend it wisely, shopping with me is not for the faint of heart. but once that's out of the way I have several more days to loll about lazily and at least four new books demanding my attention.
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