Two Hours Richer

Because even the cutest glasses can't sass up a cafeteria worker's bonnet to make it look good, it's time for a new blog post to push those photos from the last entry down the page.
Today I thought about how it's not that bad to miss work. What is one or two hours lost from deleting and sorting messages from my inbox (a full time job), when I can take the subway to go see my grandma for an afternoon cup of tea? With chocolate cake. She fed me 3 pieces!! Good thing I had a few blocks to walk to the subway.
Today I visited my grandma. I may have guilted myself into it from the earlier post when I was in NYC and nary a friend or relative did I call on. Again, sorry guys.
I need to remind myself that in the long term, who will remember that I missed the afternoon at the office because I had a dentist appointment, or because my car hasn’t always been starting the first time you try it and a dealership visit might be required? But I plague myself with little worries about the consequences and damage of my time out of office, with my inflated sense of duty and responsibility. Maybe exaggerated sense of my own importance too.
Balance this with a project I recently completed: it was finsished on time, with bells and whistles even -- and I can't remember whether or not I missed a day or took time off during its development. Who would remember anyway? Who keeps count?
It's so cliche so say that no one lies on their deathbed wishing they'd spent more time at the office. Maybe it'd be better for me to spend more time now finding breaks in my schedule to hop the 6 Lexington Local. I'd be two hours richer for spending time with Gram. Probably 2 lbs fatter thanks to that cake.


Andra Sue said...

Awwww...your post makes me miss my Grammy. Although, she never served me chocolate cake, only alfalfa sprouts. I loved it just the same! :)


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