Humpfh. I guess it's not going to get clean unless I do it myself. Whatever happened to the 50's concepts of smart, self-cleaning houses, airborne self-guided personal vehicles, short work week and what were we going to do with all our increased leisure time?

Didn't quite work out that way. I'm still cleaning my house the old-fashioned way (I don't wear my glasses while I clean, so some of the dust bunnies remain hidden--who cares?). I still drive my car manually 20 miles round trip to work and 40 miles round trip to the VA in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

Between errands and cooking and cleaning up and personal hygiene, I have about 2 hours on work days of "leisure" time. Time when I can choose my activity or non-activity. On weekends, more. It's hard to calculate, because I intertwine required activities with breathers. I shop and put away groceries, then write in my journal (as I am doing now). I put laundry in to wash, then plan out the week's menus (I have no brain when I'm dead tired). Then I may read a chapter or two in my latest books until the laundry goes in the dryer, or take a nap.

So, as I said, it's hard to calculate. But there's always the feeling of being driven--that there are things which must be completed before Monday rolls around again and once more, there's no time, unless I want to pile on errands at the end of an exhausting day. Not want.

That's why Thursday was so lovely. Once I had determined that I was not going in to work and I was not needed for any critical chore at home, I just lazed around. Bestirred myself only to make a pot of coffee and pick up my latest book. No guilt, no urgency.

Missing work Thursday was the reason Friday was the Day From Hell.

It was worth it.