First Day of "Vacation"

I'm not really into vacations, as they are traditionally proscribed. My idea of vacation is doing computer work, but at home instead of at the office. And, in fact, that's what I've been doing most all day: sitting down in my basement, surrounded by my computers, happily tracking down one problem after another.

With occasional breaks to work on the new console for the Corolla.

Most vacations are an excuse to pile the family in the car and "go somewhere". I love to do this on vacation, go for a long drive and see the countryside, spend some time with the relatives or friends we haven't seen in a long time, that sort of thing. But when I get back, there's always this huge pile of things to do, and it always makes me feel guilty - like I should've been attending to those things instead of gallivanting off into the wild blue yonder.

It's difficult for me to accomplish anything in short bursts of time. It usually requires uninterrupted hours, if not days, to accomplish the smallest of tasks. (Not simple tasks, like vacuuming or cleaning or folding clothes; I'm talking the serious debugging-a-computer-problem or fixing-the-car problems).

Take today, for example. A whole day to work on stuff around the house, and what have I accomplished? Nothing, really. The basement construction project didn't get touched. The Corolla got a little bit of attention (re-installing the delay-wiper circuit), the computers got a little bit of attention (trying to figure out why my proxy server was blocking the blog updates). Other than that, not much was accomplished.

Why?

Distractions. Lots of distractions. Five of 'em. Family. Wife. Kids. Living, breathing, speaking, walking, being.

I need to be alone to get anything done. And I can't stand being alone. I hate it. When I'm downstairs working on something, I revel in the ability to concentrate on one thing, to put a wall together, to wire a socket, to set up a computer. And the whole time I'm wondering - what are they doing up there? Do they need me for anything? Are they mad at me for being down here by myself?

And then I get mad at myself because nothing is getting done.

It's difficult to relax and enjoy a vacation when these obviously conflicting thoughts are going on inside one's head: the desire to be alone and work on things that need to be done versus the desire to be in the company of those one loves. One of the reasons that it's easy to go to work every morning is because I have to go to work, that's how the money comes in. It's easy to rationalize my absence because it's necessary. But on the weekends, or on holidays, or on vacations, that just doesn't wash. I want to be with my family. I don't want to miss out on their company. I don't need to get this or that done, I can work on that when the kids have gone to bed, or when Cheryl has gone off to the store, or some other time.

But then that time never seems to come, not in the long, un-interrupted portions required.

Oh, well. Who needs a finished house anyway? And what good are all these computers going to do me? They're just hunks of metal running silly programs. My family is flesh and blood, growing, changing, learning.

Whoa! Look at the time! I'd better get upstairs and see if anyone needs me. I've been down here all by myself for nearly an hour!