It is said that if a hard-disk is made to work consistently for a long stretch of time, spun down, and spun back up, it will most likely fail. If not, it will at the very least show signs of wearing away.It is a mechanical thing.
I had stopped to give myself a long-needed break and left for a month to relax at a place I had last had visited roughly ten-to-fifteen years ago. The drudgery in life that becomes routine had worn me out to the point of straining both my mental and physical condition. Ihad then decided to cut some slack.
A month, roughly, without work, without reading the sort of books I had done almost every day, without looking down at anything that had resembled a computer, had been most pleasant, what with more social interaction than I had ever had before. I had barely laid sight on a flickering CRT monitor, felt the small etched markers on the ‘F’ and ‘J’ keys. I had had a difficult time taking in that I could even livewithout all that. I had loved every single day.
By the end of the month, I had already hopped into my ride home, and in record time was back enjoying a cold shower in my bathroom. “The transition had seemed smooth”, I thought. Only, in some respects, itwas not.
More than three months have passed after my arrival, and although I have managed to return back to life as I had known it before I left for vacations, I find I have turned embarrasingly lazy. Each passing day I find myself short of energy to compete with the day’s toil. I have books lying there wanting and in need of my attention, work that need be done, and so many more things. Yet, there is no familiar impetus to drive me to commit myself. I recount such imeptus had always hadbeen there, before. Now, no more.
I struggle each day, trying harder than ever to resist the temptation of idling away my time, to break out of the cage I have now come to recognise as home, only in part in vain. To err on the brighter side,at least I am struggling!