Justin Skolnick lives and works in Portland.

Between 2 and 6

Originally posted to justin.revision8.com on in Woodstock, Illinois

Since I have lived a brief three weeks in a culture that permits its workforce a midday break long enough lunch and nap; since a well-traveled and wise acquaintance testified to the physiological benefits of siesta; since I’ve personally experienced these benefits on rare occasions; and though American employers are as obsessed with productivity and efficiency now as when I was born, and vigilant for signs of laziness; I remain perplexed at a certain employer’s belief that lunch restores his workers to an “energized” state — the perfect remedy for late-morning lax, as though one is a rechargeable power drill.

Short of a generous caffeine dose, lunch begins the slow-crawling death of my afternoon. By four my yawns are crippling, my eyes dewy, and a slight tingling shoots through my muscles.

Today I am off work, my belly is full of jiggling, once-warm things, and a breeze has kept my sheets cool.

cf. Leslie Harpold. Also relevant: Joe Robinson.