Captain’s Log 6,147
It doesn’t seem that an entire week has gone by since I was climbing into a big old Jeep and heading off for the desert. WOW! Where does the time go? “Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.” If you remember where that came from, give yourself a pat on the back.
This weekend is as compelling but for a different reason. I put in some outrageous hours at work that include evenings and weekends (not always but often). Free weekends are a real treat. Every now and then, I get one entire weekend day with nothing to do. Nothing! Not one thing that will take me out of my house. Nothing!
And that day is this coming Sunday! What makes it even more delicious is that is is supposed to rain buckets all day long! I can wrap up in a blanket on the sofa and READ all day! Or I can sit on the patio and just watch the rain come down whilst swigging strong coffee. I don’t have to talk to anybody or “fix” any issues. I don’t have to write letters or answer work emails. It will be MY DAY!
I think I can handle this.
People often ask me how I am able to travel so much. Well, I am in my 12th year of employment with the museum. I accrue vacation very quickly now. And I have not even touched my 48 hours of sick time this year. I have taken exactly three sick days in almost twelve years.
Never being coddled as a child has made me a workplace toughie. My mom let me stay home for an afternoon when the town’s new police dog attacked me on my way home for lunch. Not because I was totally ripped up and traumatized. Nope. She let me stay home because my uniform had been ripped to shreds and I didn’t have anything to wear until she could get it patched up. I was in school the next day, bandaged like a mummy…..in a patched and washed uniform. It was such a bad attack that the dog was euthanized. It took me a VERY long time to feel comfortable around dogs after that, but I got over it.
As much as I loved (actually adored) my mom, she was not soft and nurturing with me. Every time I was injured, she called my dad home to take care of it. I think she was unable to do the icky stuff. He also took me for all my shots. She went with me one time to have some stitches removed, and she almost passed out in the lobby. I knew she loved me, but she kept her caretaking at arm’s length. I knew it would do absolutely no good to run home crying. So I didn’t. I still don’t.
I just carry on. Sometimes, I carry on too much or too long. And that’s why a totally free weekend day is such a treat. Can you imagine reading in the middle of the day? OMG!