Keeping up with the news is a job. Keeping up with Twitter is a job. Keeping up with the pace of off-label Android development for the Barnes & Noble Nook Color is a job. Keeping up with work is a job. Basically, anything that easily takes up forty hours a week—whether you like it or get paid for it or not or not—is a job.

Cleaning the litter box is a chore. Cleaning the kitchen is a chore. Trimming my toenails is a chore. Anything that takes between two minutes and three hours and you don’t like it—partly because it interferes with your job, so you put it off as long as possible and then let it go for another week past that until it becomes an absolute necessity and then let it go a little longer until it’s on the verge of a health hazard—is a chore.

What’s left are sleep and hobbies. Anything you enjoy doing but never find the time for and can never seem to let yourself get away from your job to do is a hobby. This note is the product of a hobby. It’s called writing, and it’s taking time from sleep.

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