The Bay Area finally noticed that summer has officially started and presented us with glorious weather. The sky right now is about as blue as you'll ever see when you're staring wistfully out of your office window. While I'm not a big fan of running or cycling in it, the wind is fascinating to watch as it blows bits of the overgrown Eucalyptus trees all over the place. I see that the temp is currently 68 degrees, although I'm shivering in my over-air conditioned office. I'd love to be outside.
I'm pretty sure that back when I was about 30 I thought that by 55 I'd be seriously considering retirement, that I could do whatever I'd want because I'd be so financially secure that I wouldn't have to work. Uh, right. Although I'm feeling much older than then, I'm still thinking it will be at least another 10 years before the retirement bug bites me hard enough to get out of here.
All of which comes down to this. Why can't we be like civilized nations where hard-working people get several (or many) weeks of consecutive vacation time in the summer? Why do we feel guilty leaving work for longer than a week, why do we feel indispensable, why do we think things would fall apart without us? Or why do we feel that in this economy we're lucky to have a job at all, and if we take any vacation time the job might not be waiting for us when we return?
[edited to add: I thought I posted this yesterday after I wrote it. Whoops!]