My job lets me accrue time off every payday. The problem with me, like a large number of Americans, is that I don’t use it. Other countries get lots of time off and they don’t feel as if they have had enough: we keep our noses to the grindstone so long we don’t even have nasal cavities left.
Once before I saved up a lot of time, when I was in the Navy. I had a whole month of time off on the books. They know you have to take it, but they don’t order you to go home and relax and not come back until your balance is down. Same thing in the civilian workplace.
Until recently, accrual was the norm. Now they want you to keep only a maximum number of hours and, if you hit your cap, you earn no more until you take some off. This means either going home and relaxing or selling your time back at a 50 percent reduction. You know most folks, unless the bill collector is at the door, will take the time off.
So I’ve used a bit of vacation lately, a day or week at a time. I don’t go anywhere. It can be nice to not try to cram housekeeping and shopping into two or three hours in the evening or wait until the weekend. I can stop staring at the chore list, because I have nine whole days to decide when I want to do things. I love food shopping when there are no lines and I can put paper in plastic at my own pace.
Since I don’t go anywhere, I also don’t wind up needing another week of vacation to recover from the vacation. No suitcases to unpack and laundry to do, no bills that are going to pile up and bring the bill collector to the door.
I do have a vacation bucket list I hope to get to before I get too old to enjoy going places. Home, however, can be just as nice as any pre-packaged tourist trap. Since I live close to Philadelphia, I could just play tourist and see the sights there if I want to.
Have you ever worked in an office so near a shopping center or city shopping district you could hear your credit cards squealing with glee, but you couldn’t get there because your lunch was too short, or the rush hour traffic too messy to try to get there yourself? Go on vacation and hit that mall, honey. And just think: you don’t have to go back to cubicle hell after lunch. You can eat lunch in the food court.
But what am I posting this for? I’m on vacation. See you next time.
Susan's Scribblings the Blog 
Taking a Week Staycation
Posted at 4:08 am by kayewer, on November 9, 2014
My job lets me accrue time off every payday. The problem with me, like a large number of Americans, is that I don’t use it. Other countries get lots of time off and they don’t feel as if they have had enough: we keep our noses to the grindstone so long we don’t even have nasal cavities left.
Once before I saved up a lot of time, when I was in the Navy. I had a whole month of time off on the books. They know you have to take it, but they don’t order you to go home and relax and not come back until your balance is down. Same thing in the civilian workplace.
Until recently, accrual was the norm. Now they want you to keep only a maximum number of hours and, if you hit your cap, you earn no more until you take some off. This means either going home and relaxing or selling your time back at a 50 percent reduction. You know most folks, unless the bill collector is at the door, will take the time off.
So I’ve used a bit of vacation lately, a day or week at a time. I don’t go anywhere. It can be nice to not try to cram housekeeping and shopping into two or three hours in the evening or wait until the weekend. I can stop staring at the chore list, because I have nine whole days to decide when I want to do things. I love food shopping when there are no lines and I can put paper in plastic at my own pace.
Since I don’t go anywhere, I also don’t wind up needing another week of vacation to recover from the vacation. No suitcases to unpack and laundry to do, no bills that are going to pile up and bring the bill collector to the door.
I do have a vacation bucket list I hope to get to before I get too old to enjoy going places. Home, however, can be just as nice as any pre-packaged tourist trap. Since I live close to Philadelphia, I could just play tourist and see the sights there if I want to.
Have you ever worked in an office so near a shopping center or city shopping district you could hear your credit cards squealing with glee, but you couldn’t get there because your lunch was too short, or the rush hour traffic too messy to try to get there yourself? Go on vacation and hit that mall, honey. And just think: you don’t have to go back to cubicle hell after lunch. You can eat lunch in the food court.
But what am I posting this for? I’m on vacation. See you next time.
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Author: kayewer