Juxtaposition, Tuques, and Time Off

Do you ever just want to run away?

(Um, like every day….)

I mean seriously run away. Buy a plane ticket, pack a bag, and get the f*** outta Dodge. Just go, and not look back. I do. I think about it all the time. Then that pesky "job" and "responsibility" and "extradition" stuff gets in the way. And so I sit here, underutilizing my paid time off and over analyzing my life and wondering why the hell I don't just run away.

(Sounds like a vicious cycle.)

You have no idea. 

(Wait, haven't we had this discussion before?)

You're very astute. Yes, yes we have. We tackled this very subject back in April, as a matter of fact. However, the issue warrants revisiting because apparently I am incapable of heeding my own advice. That vacation time I took in May? Used up a portion of my carry-over time from last year. As it stands now, a day away from Halloween, I have all but a scant ten hours of my paid time off still remaining for this calendar year. Ergo, of all the time off I'm allotted for the year, I've used less than two days' worth.

(Can I say it?)

No. I already know I'm a moron. What it all boils down to is simply this: I don't know how to relax. I try, I really do. But if I try to sit down and have a drink and relax suddenly I think about how much it would suck to be a giraffe with an itch in the middle of its neck, or why platypuses lay eggs, or why Keanu Reeves is still acting, and things of that sort, and I'm done. And by done I mean my cranial wheels are turning and sleep becomes as elusive as a winged unicorn or a Buffalo Sabres win. 

(Dude. Medication. Something.)

Yeah yeah… Case in point: Every year I contract some mutant form of asthma-induced, bronchial affliction that knocks me on my arse. It usually takes weeks from which to recover, and last year it landed me in the emergency department of our local hospital on Christmas Day. Flu shots don't help, and don't even get me started on those.

(What's your problem with flu shots?)

I said don't get me started!!

(Okay, okay, jeez.)

Anywoos, I am struck with it every year between October and December, without fail. It's a debilitating combination of rotting, moldy leaves, barometric pressure changes, temperature swings, and I'm pretty sure something to do with college football BCS rankings. Whatever the cause, I can't avoid it. Well, I felt it coming on last week, so I took the unprecedented step of utilizing paid time off to step away from the stress and let my body rest.

(I…I… need to sit down. Who are you, and what have you done with…)

Oh, shut it, you. I say this because, in typical fashion, when all was said and done, I really only netted one day off because I had billable hours both days I was out of the office.

(Phew! You scared us there for a second.)

I know. And that's the sad part. Even when I'm sick, and should be medicated and in bed and doing a whole lot of nothing, I still. Can't. Do. It. I think there is something fundamentally wrong with me.

(I could have told you that….) 

*sigh* I wish I could argue with that, but alas, I cannot. I mean, I only worked a few hours each day, and spent a good deal of time binge-watching Sleepy Hollow on Hulu, but I still couldn't just walk away completely. Sleepy Hollow, by the way, is a fantastic show, and demonstrates a great juxtaposition of history, fantasy and modern society. Plus, that sentence just allowed me to use the word "juxtaposition." That's such a fun word to say. Juxtaposition….

(*ahem*)

Right, sorry. Back to what I was saying… What was I saying? Oh, right. I can't relax, even when I'm relaxing. I think though, that the minimal attempt did serve the purpose – I still feel like crap, but I feel less crappy than before I took some time out of the office. So there is a moral to this story – If you can utilize time off, do it. Studies, which I am too lazy to research but I'm certain are out there on the world wide interwebs somewhere, show that Americans seldom utilize all of their paid vacation time. Why is that?

(Because Americans are stupid?)

Well, there's that. I mean, we are reminded of that fact every first Tuesday of November. But that doesn't particularly answer the question. Why, if we are entitled to take time off, paid time off, no less, do we not avail ourselves of the luxury? It's asinine. It's unfortunate, and it's indicative of our painfully skewed sense of priority.

(I'm… intrigued. Go on.)

I think those of us that fail to take time for ourselves fall into one of two categories: Those with an overreaching sense of obligation, and those with an overreaching desire for stature. Think about it.

"I just need to finish this project," or "What if something goes wrong and I'm not here?" Those are the excuses I hear, and effuse, most often. I think it's difficult for us to believe and accept the fact that yes, the world will continue to spin on its axis even if we take a holiday for a few days. It will. The sun will rise and the sun will set and dogs and cats will live together and there won't actually be mass hysteria.

("He slimed me, Ray.")

Gold star for picking up on the Ghostbusters reference. But do you see my point? We have a false sense of obligation that prevents us from doing something for ourselves as simple as taking a day off here and there. The human body needs to recharge. Let it.

(What about the other category?)

"I am soooooo important that I can't take off because I know the world will fall apart without my effervescent awesomeness here to prevent Armageddon! Watch me stay here and work, because look at me, I'm here working! See me, here, working????"

(Right. Yeah, I hate those people.)

Everybody hates those people. Even those people hate the other "those people" that fall into that category, because they're always trying to one-up each other. I suppose, to some extent, we all have a little bit of that in us, but yeah my ego's just not that big. 

(I dunno, it can be pretty big….)

HEY! I… ok, maybe. Sometimes. But not in this instance.

(Touché, pussycat.)

Life is hard enough without adding extra pressure to ourselves. We have paid vacation for a reason. It's time we start using it. And by we I mean me. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna run away. I. Me. What has two thumbs and is gonna run away? This guy. All by my selfies. Unless, of course, you want to come with me. Or meet me somewhere. Or invite me for a visit. I hear SoCal is beautiful this time of year. Apologies to my friends in the Great White North, though. Eh. I've made the mistake of traveling upward after the calendar hits November. I'm not headed to any destination for which I need to pack a tuque. Soory. FYI – that's Canadien for "sorry." And further FYI – That's Canadien for "Canadian."

(Ok, Bob McKenzie…. Ignoring that last rant, does this mean you're planning another vacation?)

It just might. Ahh. Vacation, all I ever wanted…

(Vacation, had to get awa… GODDAMIT!!!!!!!)

*hehehe* Go-Go's. Classic.

(I hate you.) 

I know. So, do you want to come along or not? I know you have the time.

© 2014 J.J. Goodman. All rights reserved.