After a week during which I was actually expected to work, I find myself with four hours on a train with no constraints on my time. I think that I managed to actually achieve my goals – which were to remove one mid-level to major to-do item from my list each day. I saw five separate customers closed out and billable – which has to be some kind of personal record.
Now I’m looking at a totally adequate stretch of private time with network and power supply … and I find myself unable to summon the initiative to do anything with that time except watch Buffy or maybe sleep.
I feel that if I had anything left, I would be sad that I have nothing left. However, I can’t even muster that.
This weekend we’re gutting a bathroom, down to the studs and joists.
Yeah, Buffy time.