Albeit with some qualms, I decided to take a mini-break and try to relax - which, in my case, is likely to mean puttering about the house putting away books, throwing away old boxes, fiddling with light fixtures, reaching behind furniture and the odd bit of drilling.

Hammering is not completely out of question, but there is very little about that I could hit on the head to my satisfaction (I am referring to inanimate objects, of course.)

Some reading will also , as well as quite a bit of writing and those odd snippets of obliquely work-related stuff that occasionally strike my fancy but which get put aside by the usual quagmire of commitments and intermingled priorities that are, oh-so-common in what I will refer to (due to lack of a better word), as my professional life.

Hopefully, I will emerge from this gash in my weekly schedule with a moderately improved (even if merely less corrosive) sense of humor, a greater sense of empathy for my fellow colleagues, and less tendency to snarl when interrupted by yet another impromptu visitor seeking enlightenment on the inner workings of some unfathomably cryptic portion of the metaverse designed by balding Finnish monks high on meth fall-out from a standards anointment ceremony just when I'm on the verge of completing a large, fastidious paragraph similar to this one (but with more acronyms).

The more I think about it, the more I agree with Jean-Paul Sartre. Hell is other people, indeed, especially when you need to concentrate.

I would probably rephrase the above as Hell is that specific subset of other people that annoys you every five minutes when you're trying to work, but I think those people who actually know me and already figured out how best to approach me when I'm working understand what I'm getting at (those are usually the ones who show up to discuss stuff instead of just asking inane questions, which means we both learn from our talks).

I wonder if he worked in an open-space office as well - it would explain a lot of things.