When it comes to my education (which could also be called: "fear of the real world" or "never-ending pursuit of intellectual fulfillment"), I work relatively hard. I take classes at a distance university on the side for funsies, and I exclusively read secondary literature for projects on the train. In the last years, I've gone on plenty of "vacations", which were normally marked by me only working three or four hours per day on university work in a foreign country rather than most of the day at home.
I don't do it because I have to. Almost everyone I know gets by on far less.
I do it because I love it.
Still, that being said, I'd been at my breaking point for awhile. As much as I looked forward to my trip to Montreal, it scared the hell out of me since I'd promised myself twelve days without work. Why, you ask?
Because the last time I took a break like that was after my BA, and I was so bored after a week that I enrolled in distance courses just to give my brain something to do other than go to work and sit in front of the TV for a couple hours before going to bed. That drove me mad.
I admit, there were times in the last weeks when I just wanted to cruise JSTOR for some literature, and if I'm being honest, I did do a teeny, tiny bit of primary source research for an article I'm writing.
Yeah, I cheated. I did about an hour of work in twelve days, which officially marks the laziest I've been in years.
It's been a slow go getting back into it. Yesterday, I only managed some reading. Today, though, I'm back into writing, and am already a good thousand words into my day. I feel better again, a bit like I did this time last year before things really started piling up. The joy is back in it, and I'm grateful.
I recognize it took me going away and leaving my books behind, but I'm so glad I actually took a "real" vacation for once.
Yay for vacations! When's the next one?
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