Today is the first day of my four-week hiatus from week, after an exhausting three-day overtime streak I basically collapsed into bed last night.
Over the past week people have been asking me why I would take a month-long break from work. Am I going somewhere out of town? Sightseeing? By sheer coincidence I was also looking over a copy of The Little Prince, and one of the chapters there echoed perfectly my sentiments about all these questions: why are all you grown-ups so worried about so-called “matters of consequence”?
I just want to take a break. Isn’t that reason enough? I want to have a period of time where I am entirely free of responsibility, with no agenda or itinerary or plan whatever. One day I could just decide to walk around the city, or even more likely, stay at home and have a DVD marathon. I’m going to spend some time by myself doing things that I enjoy, things that I don’t usually have time for when there’s work. Unfortunately, I am neither a born tourist nor a born shopper, so those are not the things I’m going to do.
My mother even thinks I should visit some tourist spots so that my break is “productive”. I’m not really sure how walking around and looking at stuff could be considered productive. I’m no tourist; I’d prefer not to spend my time doing something I find quite a bit boring. Granted, since I don’t have any planning whatsoever, I may very well decide to go sightseeing or whatnot. But I sure as hell wouldn’t plan it.
I actually have a to-do list of things I want to accomplish during the break. But everything is optional.