Crime and punishment

Ok, not so much with the crime, but definitely with the punishment.

As I prepare to take my 12 days of work off (comp time + all of my vacation time), I am realizing that the word "vacation" doesn't really do this justice. Around these parts, there's definitely an indirect punishment involved when one decides to take one's vacation.

Particularly for a long vacation, you spend several days getting ready to turn things over to someone else, tying up any pertinent "loose ends," cleaning out your inbox so that it doesn't bust open like an over-full bag of groceries in your absence, taking the last pick of the various candies scattered around nearby cubicles, delegating responsibility to others to water your office plants, etc. This is a lot of time and energy (though the candy activity generates energy on its own).

Then there's the dreaded day back. You can just hear the ominous music, can't you. I most certainly can. I'm not even gone yet and I'm really not looking forward to coming back. Yeah, there's the conversations about what you did that are always fun. And seeing your friends again is great, don't get me wrong. But the moment you open your computer and your email starts filing in, you can just feel your blood pressure rising. And then you look over at your phone, and you see the powerful glow of the "Voicemail" light, shining forth boldly. Your eyes scan your desk, and no doubt, people have stopped by to pilfer your tape, post-its and stapler. And didn't you used to have plants that were alive? Yes, most certainly when you left, they were green. But alas, now they've taken a turn for the worse.

But I don't care. I'm going anyways. Just a few more hours in my fabric-covered box and I'm outdo here like something that's really outdo here.