I’m on vacation. Sort of. This is the stay-at-home variety, a week off work plus a holiday weekend tacked on the end. Occasionally I’ve joked that I go back to work to relax afterwards, and like any humour there’s at least one grain of truth in there somewhere.
I really do have to go back to work after weeks like this, partly for self‑preservation. For whatever reason, ambition and sheer foolhardiness inspire me to tackle outlandish, physically taxing multi‑day projects.
This one involves a rental truck, twelve sheets of drywall loaded into the garage, and four of them subsequently hauled into the house and up a long staircase.
And a few pieces of 2″ x 6″ x 10′ lumber brought home by car a few days later, and hauled down to the basement.
And a lot of typing, because I was transferring some handwritten work onto the computer.
And a lot of mousing because I was also editing music, clicking and double‑clicking to put in accents and slurs and dynamic markings.
And clarinet lesson or home practice or band rehearsal every day, usually for upwards of an hour.
I started to suspect that maybe things had gone too far when my right wrist started aching. My wrists are quite strong and resilient, but they’re not invulnerable. Fortunately I have two more days of vacation — and a wrist brace.
The moral of this story: Just because you have a nice chunk of free time doesn’t mean you have to fill every waking second of it. There’s no virtue in trying to do it all if you hurt yourself in the attempt.
And that’s why I’m going to finish typing this post right here and go out for coffee, far away from keyboards and power tools.