You have /5 articles left.
Sign up for a free account or log in.
Last week I was on the losing side of a debate on campus about vacation days. This week I realized the wisdom of the other side.
Employees with vacation days are allowed to carry over a certain amount from one year to the next; anything they’ve accrued beyond the maximum is effectively “use it or lose it” time. I typically lose a few days each year, mostly because work doesn’t stop when I’m off. But the annual resetting of the odometer doesn’t bother me, because I get the point of it; it’s to prevent people from accruing so much vacation time that it invites abuse. I get it.
This spring, of course, it’s hard to go anywhere. With the quarantine in effect, the difference between Fridays and Saturdays is pretty subtle. I can get up a little bit later, use the computer less and spend an hour mowing the lawn; that’s about it.
Someone proposed that, in light of the quarantine, it might be a welcome gesture to raise the carryover cap this July 1, at least for a year. Let folks carry over a few more days, if they have them, in recognition that it’s hard to take anything resembling a vacation in these conditions. I supported the idea. It lost, mostly on the grounds of the details of implementation. It happens.
Having spent about 15 hours in Zoom meetings over the first three days of this week, though, I’m beginning to see the appeal of a day off the computer, even if I’m only in the living room.
Zoom is great in many ways, especially for really large meetings. But there’s something remarkably draining about it, separate from the fact of meetings themselves. As an experienced academic administrator, I’ve built up a relatively high tolerance for meetings. It’s part of the job. But Zoom meetings, when they’re long and in rapid succession, are a different matter.
I’ve noticed the difference with a few one-on-one voice calls. Talking on the phone isn’t draining in the same way. That may be partially generational -- as an Xer, I’m old enough to remember when the phrase “voice call” would have been redundant -- but I don’t think it’s only that. The fact of neither being on camera nor staring at a screen allows for a freedom of movement and a break from the self-consciousness that comes from seeing yourself on screen. On the phone, it’s just talking. That’s easy.
Unfortunately, the advantages of voice calls only hold when they’re one-on-one. Conference calls are almost as draining as Zoom meetings, despite the lack of video. In a conference call, finding openings to speak -- and not competing for airtime -- can be an intense bit of negotiation. At least Zoom has the “raised hand” function.
All of which is by way of saying, I get the appeal of staycation days now. After a certain amount of Zoom time, the prospect of settling in with a nice hardcover or two is genuinely appealing.
(Ever since grad school, I’ve had trouble only reading one book at a time. My most recent pairing was Hiding in Plain Sight by Sarah Kendzior and Trouble Boys by Bob Mehr. The former is an elegantly written, unforgiving, trenchant bit of political analysis; the latter is an affectionate portrait of The Replacements, the little band that could, but didn’t. As companion volumes, they’re salty and sweet, respectively.)
Wise and worldly readers, do you have any staycation recommendations for “use them or lose them” days in a quarantine?
