Work vacation

Work. Vacation.

Work. Vacation. Work vacation. "Are you getting it?" as Steve Jobs says it. You don't pay your bills. You don't drive around. You don't even pay a visit to the courthouse for that fix-it ticket they gave you. You don't go out to eat. You don't go get groceries. You don't go move your clothes from washer to dryer. And yes, you don't even take a shower.

Something is missing from that list. Something is naggingly off. Work. We never used that word! That's what you don't put aside. In fact, it's the only thing you do. Well, okay, respond to email like a master, so they know you're working. Forage in the kitchen. And when you really can't hold it any longer, answer the nature. But for all the rest of your 26 hours, you satiate the student in you, the engineer in you, the detective in you, that ferocious warrior in you who shall not be held back by dark ignorance, the prophet in you who sought the divinity of knowledge and understanding, and the dreamer in you who knew where heaven was.

You take that vacation into waters you want to sail. You are the master and commander of that ship. You choose the course. In a world where you never run out of time. You don't sleep thinking about the next morning. You wake up without remembering the last night, except that you were sailing, only to be able to sail again. That, my friend, is the "work" vacation.