Last week was vacation. We’d been looking forward to this for a while, as everyone in the office was extremely overworked.

My business partner was headed to the Dominican Republic for a week with family.

I had plans to do two things: jack and shit.

That could be taken rudely, so let me rephrase: After months of being on call for every goddamn person under the sun and catering to every person I saw to make sure their needs were met, I wasn’t about to do a damn thing unless I absolutely had to.

I believe the Millennials call that a “staycation.”

Well, I stayed all right. Most of the week was spent on my couch. Get up at six, take the kids to school by seven, then back to the couch until 10 AM or so for a nice extended nap.

Or as the program on my iToy Watch calls it, “repaying your body’s sleep debt.”

When you work for yourself, even the vacations involve some manner of work. I don’t want to go into too much exposure of business, but the last week was mercifully painless in just fending off frivolous litigation for others and appeasing irked clients who want that thing done RIGHT NOW even though you’ve told them you’re going to be out of the office for a week.

My wife booked a massage, planned lunch with a friend, and caught up on missed visits to the chiropractor.*

I played video games, went bowling, and somehow tricked myself into watching…well, let’s just pretend last week’s post never happened, okay? I think that’s probably best for all involved.

Anyway, the bowling was supposed to be a date thing, but ended up being an outing with my son on Sunday after my wife expressed a desire to not leave the house over the weekend.

My son and I love bowling. It’s honestly more fun bowling with a six year old because they get excited when they knock down any pins. Put the bumpers up, get a ramp, and watch the kids squeal with delight.

Plus he gets cheese pizza and I get wings and beer. If that’s not a father/son bonding experience, I don’t know what is.

And there’s bowling shirts. Just as one should refrain from stepping on the links without proper attire, I hold the belief one should stay out of a bowling lane unless properly attired as well.

To quote the great legal sage Walter Sobchack, “This is not ‘Nam, this is bowling. There are rules.”

I will confess my inner wild child did come out for an evening on Friday. I managed to stay up until 11:30 that night watching wrestling, as it was Wrestlemania weekend and every major promotion was doing some kind of show in Texas.

Before any of you ask, no, I didn’t watch Wrestlemania. I’m a grown-ass man and have better things to do with my life.

I watched ROH’s “Supercard of Honor.” That’s the adult thing to do.

Paying for it dearly, I woke up Saturday morning cursing my poor life decision choices and dragged my son to karate and swim, which is our usual custom. I guess it would be easy to say that my “vacation” was effectively over last Friday but here we are a week later and I’m still not thrilled about getting out of bed in the morning.

Being a positive person, I like to think I’m still living in a “vacation state of mind,” even after being back at work full time for a week.

Anyway, I finally got off my ass about 3 PM Sunday and finally started puttering around for the week. That’s my thing. Some people play on social media. Some people like to argue. I putter.**

That’s a big reason I think the house stays together as well as it does. My wife goes out and does surgeries all week and then doesn’t want to do shit when she comes home for the weekend out of sheer exhaustion. I get exhausted dealing with people’s bullshit but find some solace in making my house the one place in life that doesn’t piss me off.

Which, to quote Bob and Steve Ross, “in my world,” means cleaning dishes, folding laundry, and taking the trash out (and not shoved and compressed to fit an obscene amount of waste into one bag like SOME people do).

(SHG: No, I’m not @ing you on this. I’m pretty damn sure you keep the trash out of your home like a good man does.)***

Anyway, I returned to work this week ready to deal with bullshit again. Which for some people might not be much of an optimal vacation outcome. Some people might think it’s worth a “vacation from the vacation” in those circumstances.

But when your job regularly entails dealing with other people’s bullshit, sometimes the best you can hope for is what I call the “bullshit reset”: that point where you’re just finally relaxed enough from not dealing with other people’s bullshit that you’re ready to put up with more.

That’s all for this week, folks! Hopefully next week I’ll be back with some actual jokes and not just a line of bullshit about how I’d rather take a nap. Here’s to a better weekend, and when Scotch-o-Clock comes today, may you too find yourself in a “vacation state of mind!”

We’ll see you next week, everybody!

*Ed. Note: We do not endorse chiropractors, voodoo or faith healing.

**Ed. Note: We endorse putter.

***Ed. Note: We have people for this.