Not working is very time consuming. And difficult. I’m speaking from experience. Partly because you feel like you finally have time not to do anything, which is so pleasant at times, but at the same time there’s the guilt-monkey sitting on your shoulder ALL THE TIME, telling you how you are squandering your time. I speak from experience, having just finished a two-year (!) sabbatical. I don’t know where the time went. True, I’ve written two novels (of which one is shelved and the other I’m now re-writing) but still I feel I could have done so much more. I wish I had more discipline not to waste time on things that don’t matter. And the guts to decide when I am NOT going to write, instead of sitting in front of the computer because the guilt monkey won’t let me leave, even thou all I do is play solitaire.

And all that inspired by Jed’s toady’s post.