I love work. I would have to admit that since I have been on this earth for a few decades, I've always had a job, always thrived, and have never taken a vacation of more than 3 days. I mean, I must love it, right? I think about that every time someone mentions these places that I dream about visiting. Cabo anyone? I don't know. Maybe it's the blue-collar in me that I never took off. Maybe it's that Philly work ethic that I somehow learned all those years in Irish Catholic & Italian upbringing. Maybe I do like being grinded down to the barest of bones in a job until I get it done. I don't like to say I've ever settled for much in life. And, well, maybe I don't like to settle for having something halfway finished. I mean, who leaves bricks on the table with these tough economic times? Take those bricks and build yourself a pyramid. You might look an alcoholic to some, but at least you're productive. You're all taking a drink of the working mans well (this a unisex statement ladies please don't bash me).
Anyhow, sometimes do you ever get going on a project, task, follow-up, or dream....and just feel like you're walking on one of those ground-level motorized walkways you can use in the airport? I mean, shit...even when I walk on those things I still see people walking on the non-moving ground and going just as fast. Is the airport trying to tell me something besides your flight is delayed? Like hey son, use all your techno-mo-logical doo-hickeys to walk from point A to point B...you're not getting there any faster. You just think you look cooler trying to get there. I know why they call the little squares in excel "cells"....the longer you use these damn things the more you feel trapped in your box.
So what! I took a break. I can't spend my entire life working towards retirement.
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