Last weekend's surf excursion was busy, but very enjoyable. My ensuing workweek went by quickly, a testament to the energy I put in. In retrospect, I think I prefer that to the tedium of rolling carpets at the Beaulieu textile factory in the summer of 2001. The factory had rolled carpets inside-out, and as the temporary summer worker, my job was to unfurl re-roll them correclty. There was a clock right in front of my table that told me I could do one carpet in about a minute, and my shift was eight hours long. Time was not kind to me then.
I was quite tired by the end of this week, and was looking forward to sleeping in. At work I was asked the classic Friday afternoon small-talk question numerous times, and was happy to say that I had nothing special planned, except sleeping in and resting.
And I did that today.
I woke up late, and then bought a Weekend Edition paper. Because I'm not the only person in Vancouver who wants to relax with a newspaper on Saturday, I avoided the coffee shops, and instead spread out the paper alone in a sandwich business. I slowly read all the sections I cared to, then walked home.
I had a nap, even though I didn't need it. I did a few things, but not much. I've left our dishes, one of the regular cleaning tasks, in the sink dirty.
It's almost 3am, and I've just finished my book. There's something very satisfying about reading late into the night, and turning the final page. I was reading Terry Fallis' Best Laid Plans. I don't know much about Parliament (including how to spell it, according to my in-line spell checker) and this funny and fictional story gave me some insight.
What a great day. Some days are meant to be productive, but today was not one of them.
Good night!
