Apparently, in the absence of having planned anything constructive, four days off is too much for me to handle all at one time. Admittedly, the first two were enforced by an uncooperative stomach, so there wasn’t much chance of getting anything accomplished there other than the occasional load of laundry and some poking around on the interwebs. Yesterday got the week’s “running” accomplished – groceries, random crap from Lowe’s, ridiculous organic dog food, and the like. The only thing that really hasn’t gotten done is bathroom cleaning… and I don’t think even my OCD-addled mind is pressed enough to take that on to just have something to do. If there’s one household task I simply detest, that would be the one. Sitting here grousing about it is obviously more productive.

My point though, in this somewhat rambling post, is that I really have nothing to do today (other than the whole cleaning bit that’s not going to happen). This means that I’m basically going to end up knocking around the house trying to come up with something that needs done… and then talking myself out of it because it’s Sunday and no one in their right mind starts a project on Sunday. I’m not quite saying that I’m ready to get back to work, but one thing I can always count on there, is that it’s rarely going to be boring… ridiculous, frustrating, and myopic, sure – but rarely boring.