In terms of school days, an early dismissal is a beautiful thing. Just over four short hours of pretending to learn throughout four shortened classes, and the final bell still rings in time for be to get home for lunch. Best of all, these throw-away lesson plans still carry all the same weight as a full day would, bringing us that much close to the ultimate reward of summer vacation. I know that most if not all my peers are headed home on these days to blow off homework and do nothing more strenuous than watch tv, but my plans come no where near such absent-minded behavior. You would think that packing up my books early would give me so much luxurious leisure time to while away as I please, but somehow, almost inexplicably, I end up working twice as hard instead.
Returning to my residence by noon, the desire to make up for such an unproductive school day compels me to over-compensate in my domestic duties. With the oven cranking away mere minutes after I first breezed through the front door, I’m already dashing about trying to simultaneously combine ingredients to make cookies and complete any knit or crocheted works in progress. Then there’s always some pile of laundry to sort, dishes to wash and put away, craft supplies to organize… I simply can’t shake the feeling that I would completely waste this rare half-day if I didn’t utilize this time to the fullest. There is nothing more unfulfilling in my book than watching tasks stack up on my to-do list, only to turn a blind eye to them when given some extra time to accomplish them.
Watching me run around like a headless chicken was a good friend of mine who happened to be feeling a bit blue that day. I offered to include him in my activities and maybe have some fun while getting work done, but he hastily turned down my offer. Instead, I spent much of the time aware of his curious eyes boring holes through my back where ever I turned. What looked like tiresome tasks to him was in fact wonderful fun for me, and he simply couldn’t comprehend that. Taking cookies out of the oven, tying off my final stitches, he was still there, watching.
After a couple hours of nearly manic crafting and creating, my energy level began to drop. Cursing my pathetic excuse for endurance, I soldiered on, making increasing numbers of mistakes on my projects as my focus began to lessen. Soon I was spending almost as much time correcting my errors as making progress, taking three steps forward and two steps back. It didn’t take much of this slow going for me to take notice of my exhaustion, and I reasoned with myself that a short rest would be a good thing, so I could continue working hard after.
Up the stairs I climbed, headed for my soft, cozy bead. Ready to collapse in it right then and there, I peeled back the covers and was startled to see my watch-hawk friend was already there, lazily opening his eyes! I guess I hadn’t noticed when he had chosen to abandon me, but he sure looked tired now.
Complaining that the act of observing me rush about like a madwoman was tiring, he claimed to need the rest just as much as I did. Well, had he actually helped me out I would have understood his desire to take a break, but through my own worn down eyes, I saw little pity for this lazy friend of mine. Wanting to push him clear out of bed, I restrained myself nonetheless and allowed us both to take a break. Keeping this favor in mind, I can only hope that he realizes how much easier it could be on both of us if he offers to contribute his own time on my next half-day of school.