These thoughts are, fortunately, almost completely non-political.
The thoughts went like this:
1) I think I’ll take the day off, and just sketch in books. No buffer-fu.
2) Nah, I think I’ll take the WEEK off from buffer-fu. I’ll just sketch in books and otherwise relax.
3) Maybe I’ll paint some miniatures. I’ll bring my gaming stuff with me to the Keep today.
A part of that neurochemical gestalt that is my consciousness quailed at these thoughts. These thoughts, after all, are the ones that lesser webcartoonists* revel in when they’re running filler weeks, guest weeks, or life-caught-up-with-me weeks. They’re the same sorts of thoughts that lots of us embrace when we’re procrastinating and collecting a paycheck even though the work’s not done. Sticking it to our employers, you know? (I know. I did it at Novell once in a while.)
I voiced my thoughts, and my quailings. Sandra said, in essence, “GOOD. TAKE THE WEEK OFF. YOU NEED IT.” Apparently having a buffer of only 30 days is acceptable right now. Maybe I’ll let it drop all the way to twenty-five before the quailing knocks me back into my type-A mode. I expect that to happen Monday.
The funny thing? I’m considering it a “vacation” when the only thing I’m doing is fourteen hours’ worth of ultra-repetitive sketching.
(*e.g. anybody with less buffer than me. Oh yeah, I went there.)