We do not want you to become lazy, but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised.
In my college sociol psychology class, I learned that people usually overestimate in predictions of their future emotions. For example, if you ask somebody, “How would you feel if your mother died unexpectedly?” the person is likely to say “I’d feel devastated for months or years; I might never be the same.” Then when his mother dies, he’ll mourn her and keep living, nowhere near devastated. Conversely, you expect to feel fantastic when a politician you voted for wins. When that happens, though, you feel fairly happy but not as ecstatic as you expected. Basically, we are awful judges of future emotions, and we tend to expect to feel more strongly one way or the other than we actually do when the event happens.
I bring this up because I’ve spent the last five days miserably contemplating my return to work. Despite my best efforts at burying my head in the sand (more accurately, I buried it in a book) and freezing time, the alarm went off at 6:00 this morning. On auto-pilot, we moved in our normal old routine, and somehow I found myself outside on the way to work without really realizing it. Even so, I still expected actually getting to work and starting my job again to feel horrible, something like a slow-motion train wreck.
Instead, when I arrived, I felt like I had never left.
It was just any old Monday, except I had to slog through 212 emails rather than the normal 20. People greeted me slightly more effusively than usual, but not for long. By the end of the day I had already become embroiled in one disgusting mess that hadn’t cleaned itself up in my absence, and I ended up spending over nine hours at work. In short, it was perfectly typical, except that I was slightly behind on the status of a few reports. Which just goes to show that even I support the sociological principle of affective forecasting.