to work or not to work...

to say that i don't want to go to work tomorrow is an absurd understatement. i'm not sure if there is a good way of saying the same thing, without using much harsher language.

and i know i feel this way after all vacations. they begin so slowly and roll along and then they are over, before i can contemplate being comfortable. i feel as if i have finally shrugged off all the stress of employment and now it is sunday eve and i have to get up and return to my gray cubicle tomorrow.

i cannot say it will be all sad. i do enjoy the people with whom i work, and i enjoy the satisfaction of completing a job. but i think that perhaps the stress of said job is from what i cringe.

part of me wishes daily that my bank account was filled to brimming with lottery winnings, and that i could simply remain home, perhaps have children and a big yard with a garden that smelled of fresh turned dirt and green beans.

but it is a wish; to make the wish reality i would need to either win the lottery itself, or just keep working, with my head down. my only problem is that the keep working mentality has driven me for all my life, and i am no where nearer any of those lottery dreams, despite all the hard work.

***

one of the things i love to do is cook. and bake. i like to be in the kitchen, cubing chicken and feeling the handle of my wooden spoon press into my palm as i stir.

yesterday i had the urge to make blueberry muffins. it was the thought of those berries, hot to bursting, oozing in sweet dough, that drove me to turn on the oven and bake. after i dropped dan off at the airport, all i could taste was that tangy-sweet bubble popping open in my mouth. i made six muffins, and over the course of the day, ate 4. this morning i ate the last two, savoring that longed-for taste.

today i longed for silence. i had to leave the house only to go to the grocery store; otherwise i have been reading, sipping lemonade and eating some casserole prepared for this week's lunches. it's been quite relaxing. and the majority of my collective cell mass would prefer to remain here for all of next week, too.

***

i have only a few more days off this year--in a few weeks, the day of and the day after we see "spamalot", and another week in i think october--in which i can indulge this urge to be schedule-less and shiftless and altogether liesurely as i rise and make my way through the day. i know that a month of this would not be enough--i would crave more time, more space.

for many months now i have craved the solitude of this house--silent except for a cat, dreaming and snoring--this solitude that i can usually only find in the wee hours of a sunday morning. it has been so wonderful, this quiet.

perhaps it is that which i will crave, that silence, that i will put away in a box on a shelf for the time that my next days off come upon me. during the week, when dan and eero are here, there is noise, which cannot be avoided and which is a comfort to someone who grew up in a household of six. during the week there are phones ringing and women gossiping and the sound of the copier, thudding along.

i really don't have much choice in the matter--there is no question of working or not working. i enjoy too much having a roof over my head and the funds to purchase blueberries, and pay for the electricity with which to bake them. the mobility of going to the library, where i can find books that soothe my soul and offer balm.

perhaps this is simply my oasis, this week. i can almost feel and see the disruption that work brings, ahead of me--as if the smooth pavement will give way to rocks and gravel and potholes. it is this that pains me, i think, this foreknowledge of what is to come, when the alarm blares monday morning.