The Lost Week

I am one of those supremely lucky people who get to set their own working hours. These hours can vary wildly. Most days start between 5:15 and 6:00 am with a cup of coffee for breakfast, I will answer e mail, read the early morning news on the computer and be out the door by 8:30 on the days I have work scheduled for that day. My work day may last from 2 to 6 hours but never more than that and even with those short hours I only work 3 or 4 days a week.
The only disadvantage about not working regular hours or a 5 day work week, is that one never feels quite finished. There is no punching the clock, no sense of a leisurely weekend or even a single day holiday looming ahead. Although my pace is less intense than most people's, I nonetheless find myself working in dribs and dribs 364 days a year.
At the end of the week I do not expect to be filled with self congratulation for my accomplishments. When the weekend arrives I have laid in enough supplies so I don't need to leave the house if I don't want to. I put my butt snugly in a chair and begin watching a half dozen sporting events, jumping from one to the next so I don't miss any of the action. I don't know how many years of my life I've spent watching sports on TV. I am lucky I don't care about tennis or hockey or I would have had to come out of semi retirement and take full retirement a decade ago. I suppose I could have used the time to learn the guitar or maybe a foreign language but I can always do those things in my next life, it's time for Kick Off.
I used to think I might have an addiction to watching sports on TV but never once did I ever try to fight it. I just relax every weekend letting the sporting events sweep over me. I even get a tear in my eye every time the Star Spangled Banner is sung. That tear dose not come from my love of country but from the last two words of the Star Spangled Banner, "Play Ball"
Let the games begin and may the best man or team win and oh yes, thank God for free over the air TV.