I’m not sure whether to think that time is wasted on the working or the idle. Am I wasting more time sitting around at a cubicle entering menial forms into some soon to be useless database for someone I don’t know, or sitting around my apartment doing nothing but it’s doing nothing for ME. But spending the past forty-some hours in here sure has taken its toll on the massive cleaning job I did for my mom’s visit last weekend.
Today I ventured out at the crack of two to start working on the long list of things I wanted to accomplish during my week off while the rest of the slugs (like me) were at work and the stores were my playground. I waltzed right in to the post office, could have spun around with my arms out in the Target, and was back in time to still nab the Pole Position in my parking lot. As I was pulling in, I was behind a minivan and was cursing its existence as it slowly moved through the gate. It was beginning to turn into the parking lot when I noticed that the minivan was not being steered by the driver, but the five-year-old boy who was sitting on his lap. From what I could tell, the father didn’t have his hands on the wheel at all and the boy pulled that van into the space like a champ. When I was five I couldn’t even take my bike off the driveway.