While the rest of the world appears to be running around like a headless chicken, getting all stressed out and telling anyone daft enough to listen how there simply aren't enough hours in the day to get everything done, I deliberately engineer my life to be as stress-free as possible.
I have no trouble doing what needs to be done because there is so little that needs doing.
This confirms my long-held belief that life is only as stressful as you make it. I sit back watching others work themselves up into a frenzy as they rush about from one self-induced crisis to the next as though being in a constant state of angst is their own personal crack cocaine.
Different things work for different people of course, and no doubt some of these stress monkeys would rather have something sharp and hot inserted somewhere sensitive than spend an hour reading a book or sitting by the river with a nice cold pint watching the ducks.
Last week I was off work, using up some of the leave that I'm blessed with having a good amount of.
I'd planned to do a couple of jobs to keep me occupied sufficiently to stop boredom setting in, but I wasn't going away anywhere.
The conservatory roof needed attacking with the pressure washer, I was going to service the Honda, and then I intended pottering around doing some of those little tasks I'd been putting off for a while.
I got the roof cleaned, but then I urgently needed new tyres on the Beemer so servicing the Honda has been deferred to next month.
The plan to do all those little jobs around the house also amounted to nothing because as hard as I tried, I couldn't remember what any of them were.
Oh well, Playstation time then.
Having become frustrated with 'Doom', which had been really good up until the point when I was supposed to kill this fifty foot tall minotaur sort of thing that simply refused to die, I searched the local video game library (AKA my son's bedroom) for something different.
I slipped 'Farming Simulator 15' into the PS4, wondering if years spent playing first person shooters and drivers would make me find this sort of thing incredibly tedious, but I didn't really know what to expect and I was getting desperate.
I definitely didn't expect to become so utterly addicted to it.
Usually if I sit down for a gaming session I'll play for about two hours, maybe three if I'm on a roll.
With this game I spent the rest of the week getting up early to switch it on and the console wouldn't be turned off until bedtime, occasionally leaving it running itself while I dealt with meals, trips to the lavatory, and a visit to my father.
Even internet porn didn't get a look in as I spent hour after hour ploughing, fertilising, sowing, harvesting, expanding the farm and buying increasingly exotic machinery while the money kept rolling in from all the renewable energy sources I'd bought and placed around the map.
I was truly hooked, and having to go back to work on Monday was even more saddening than usual because I wouldn't be able to feed this new addiction.
It sounds insane that a 45 year old bloke could spend so long doing something that the headless chicken brigade would consider a colossal waste of time. But what is a waste of time?
Does it really matter how anyone spends their free time? Whether someone likes to spend their leisure time watching TV, baking, skateboarding or juggling flaming chainsaws with greasy handles while tap-dancing on the back of an angry crocodile, surely their choice is as valid as anyone else's?
The trouble is that I tend to feel guilty if I'm not accomplishing something of value - constantly fighting that nagging voice in the back of my head
saying "You really should be doing something more constructive you
know", and most of the time I give in.
If I have nothing to show for my time I feel I've wasted it. Last week however, I fought back.
Apart from a bit of daily exercise either on the cross-trainer or cycling, I spent most of the time sat on my lazy arse and achieved sod all.
And for once I didn't feel bad about it.