I wish there were more three-day weekends. Then there wouldn't be that looming sense of doom on Sunday to go back to work the following day, and Mondays wouldn't be as reviled as it usually is on a normal work week.

I unleashed my inner jock this Australia Day weekend. Played 27 holes of golf, did some laps in the pool, hiked the Spit-to-Manly trail (half of it at least), went fishing and lost all my bait to the annoying juvenile nibbler fish that were too small to hook, and played some tennis.

After waking up for two straight days at the crack of dawn to play golf (a newfound addiction which probably merits its own entry soon), I slept in today and woke up feeling more aligned then I've ever been this year. I felt good. Rested.