Not counting today, it is one more working day before the Christmas-new year shut down. I’ll have 12 days off. What will I do? Absolutely nothing. I will sleep in. Watch TV. Read. Log in more mileage in my running.
12 days is a long time to be alone. I have no obligations, no responsibilities, no expectations. I could fade away within all that time, and no one would know. No one would care.
There’s this urban legend about a guy working in his little office cubicle, and he died from a heart attack, and no one found out he was dead until 5 days later, on the weekend, when the cleaning lady asked him what he was doing there on a Saturday.
I understand how that could happen. It could happen to me. Except it would happen at home, and there will be no cleaning lady on Saturday.