Thursday, January 30, 2025

Leaving early

 





I can see that this is the kind of post that might give the casual reader the feeling that I don't like my job. So you should know this:

I kind of like my job!

I just like not working way better!




One of the peculiarities of my schedule at the library is that every single day I work, I work until closing. My library is open for 59 hours a week so this is not true for any of my colleagues. For the most part, I am happy with this schedule, although there is a touch of pained jealousy at that all too common point in the day where I have to watch my co-workers leave while I have to stay behind. Another side effect of this schedule is that when I do leave early, for an appointment, a minor catastrophe, or in some prearranged vacation, I get the peculiar feeling of transgression, like I am playing hooky, or leaving something incomplete. Of course, it is a sublime feeling as well, like I am stealing time. 

Time is delicious.

With this in mind, over the past few years, on the almost but not quite rare occasion where I go out after work with one of my two local friends, I have taken to leaving one hour early and using one precious hour of vacation time to do so.

This is great.

This is happening today and in 75 minutes I am leaving to go to a restaurant called Lynette to schmooze with old Marcus. Leaving an hour early is not much really. And an hour of vacation time, though small, is terribly valuable to me. But outweighing all of that is the invaluable fact that all day long a secret refrain quietly rings out in my spirit, like a lovely whisper slightly lightening everything:

I'm leaving early, I'm leaving early, I'm leaving early, I'm leaving early,






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