When I get home for my lunchbreak, I like to chill out and relax and switch off from the office for an hour. So might I surf a bit as I eat, or play a game of patience on the computer, or perhaps read my book. Whatever it is I do, it won't be a chore or any sort of running about. That hour is my respite. The only thing I do, if OH isn't at home, is to give the hounds a 10 minute spin and feed Ruby the Foster Greyhound, but that's not a chore.
Yet most of my colleagues seem to spend their lunchbreak running round like demented lemmings. They hoover and clean, or get the dinner in the oven (how bloody organised is that?), they go shopping or chop wood for the fire, in summer they garden. Whatever it is they do, it involves doing something.
My brain just cannot compute this. The thought of being on the go for a solid 8 hours without that hour break literally fills me with panic...which does make me wonder if there's just a touch of compulsive behaviour in me somewhere!
Don't these people need a break!?
Yet most of my colleagues seem to spend their lunchbreak running round like demented lemmings. They hoover and clean, or get the dinner in the oven (how bloody organised is that?), they go shopping or chop wood for the fire, in summer they garden. Whatever it is they do, it involves doing something.
My brain just cannot compute this. The thought of being on the go for a solid 8 hours without that hour break literally fills me with panic...which does make me wonder if there's just a touch of compulsive behaviour in me somewhere!
Don't these people need a break!?
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