I've worked several jobs dating back to high school.
From stocking shelves to mowing lawns to tutoring to operating a forklift, I've had a strange combination of jobs on my resume.
I've never been paid to do absolutely nothing, though. That's going to change this week, however, when I take my first paid vacation.
I'm heading out to Watkins Glen this weekend for a NASCAR race, but beyond that I don't have much for plans.
And that's a good thing.
Past trips to the racetrack have taught me that I'll probably spend a couple days there waiting for it to stop raining. Tread-less tires and wet pavement just don't mix.
Some people fill their vacation time by completing projects at home; others hit the road for long trips.
There's nothing wrong with those options, but I'm looking forward to recharging my batteries. I don't want to come back to work feeling more exhausted than when I clocked out. I should be at or near my couch by Monday or Tuesday at the latest.
My red pen and Associated Press Stylebook will remain on my desk at The Post-Journal. If I read anything, it will be a Stephen King novel that I would just make worse by trying to edit.
My dress shirts and ties will hang untouched in the closet.
For the first time in a year, I'll be able to go a full week without dressing up. It's time to find the sleeveless shirts and athletic shorts.
The only deadline I'll be worried about is making sure I'm done napping, reading or exercising in time to plant myself in front of the TV to watch "Shark Week" on Discovery.
I didn't take off work just to watch sharks munch on stuff, but I wasn't upset to learn I had picked "Shark Week" for my vacation.
A college professor once warned me that every week in the real world feels like an undergraduate finals week. So far, he has been right. I'm hoping he forgot about vacations, though.