Don't take this wrong, but for a great part I'm writing you today because I am a bit bored. Sorry, that sounds horrible, but the thing is I've been working so many hours over the years, only having time off work during holidays - when I often have family obligations or some such. It is strange for me to not have work to do. For so long, I worked 6 nights a week, having only one night off, which I used to catch up on my sleep, and in the midst of it all I worked about the house or doing lawn mowing for others. Then, come Sunday night, I went in early.... it is about that time when I'd normally be heading into work, and I feel wonderful yet out of place not doing so.
I was just reading a wonderful story about two men who began to raise a family via adoption. It was filled with sorrow, joy, love, hope, togetherness and true family. A great story. Now, telling you that I am finding myself a bit bored, I anticipate recriminations from Scottie that I should be out enjoying life, experiencing life, meeting people, etc. I agree... but ...
So, I guess I'm setting myself up. I'll hear it from my friend, and I know some of you are thinking the same things. But, here is my thought that prompted my writing today: why is it that we work our life away only to find ourselves at a loss when we have moments when we don't have to work? Does work so define us? Are we so in need of "constructive" activities that sitting about in the summer breeze is a bad thing? I don't know. What I do know is that there is a robin singing away on the fence, and it sounds just wonderful. Maybe this is the meaning of life?