January 13, 2007
Having been out of the full-time work force for the past three and a half years, I had forgotten what the weekend means. Technically, the weekend is just Saturday and Sunday, both of which were still days of the week when I was in grad school. Certainly in grad school I didn't have class on Saturdays or Sundays, but I had to read, write, meet with classmates, and sometimes even attend lectures. I still set my alarm for 6am, and I still worked about twelve hours, just as I did during the week. Weekends were especially meaningless during semesters when I only had class two or three days a week or when I didn't have class at all. Technically, most of the week should have been weekend, but my days without class were actually my most productive days. That is, until the end of 2005, when it all went to hell. Since then, weekends have been meaningless because I wasn't working period!
But on Friday afternoon, when people around the office started getting this weekend-anticipation buzz, I remembered what it was like back when Saturday and Sunday were magical days. In the working world, the weekend is sixty-three hours in which I don't even have to think about my job. From 4:30pm on Friday, when I leave the office, until 7:30am on Monday, when I return, I am free. I don't have to look at data or think about documentation. The word "homework" is meaningless. In fact, I couldn't take work home with me even if I wanted to because it is all on the ICPSR server, which I can't access from home. I also can't go into the office and work on weekends because I'm not exempt and I haven't been authorized to work overtime. So I am really and truly free. And what am I doing with this free time? Staring at a computer screen -- just like I do at work!
Posted by eklanche at January 13, 2007 05:40 PM