If I'm going to have to work on a Saturday, this is the way I'd like it to be. In fact, if it could be like this all the time, I wouldn't mind working every Saturday. Naturally, I'd expect a little more time to myself during the week, but since I work at home I make my own breaks anyway.
Even before the big check came in the mail, I was planning on getting some work done today. I've fallen a little behind on some things, and then there's the inevitable month-end crunch that overloads the agenda at the start of the next month. I'll always work as hard as I need to to get everything done, but I don't necessarily follow anyone else's schedule to do it.
When we get paid that much money at once, I know that we have a dozen suppliers that have waited longer than they should have to for their bills to be paid. I always try to disburse the funds as soon as possible, and that's especially true when we've been waiting this long to be paid. So as soon as I opened the mail, I knew I'd spend my afternoon writing checks.
It was good, though. It was like an oasis, when I compare it with an ordinary work day, full of the kinds of interruptions that make everything take twice as long. If I could have Saturdays like this, I'd work every Saturday. I'd sleep until eleven, pick up the mail, and then write checks all day while watching the Giants beat the Reds in color, with stereo sound and the best baseball announcing team in the world.
That's not a bonus in this case; it's part of the package. The oasis requires the whole package. That's why this is such a rare treat, and why I'm feeling so good about my Saturday. My perfect planet, the one I dreamed about all of fourth grade, the one with talking dogs and the Twinkies growing on trees, has Saturdays like this. Every Saturday is like this on that planet.