Watching sports is a diversion; reading, writing (no, for most of us, engaging in arithmetic is not a diversion, or at least not a pleasant one); taking a drive, engaging in some artistic endeavor like painting, woodcraft, batiking (or the more simple form of tie-dying that we all did as children); they all divert our attention away from life’s difficulties, challenges and general unpleasantries diffusely appropriated by mere happenstance of “living”.
Is it the diversion that makes the rest of it all worthwhile, or is it the daily grind which makes it worthwhile such that we can engage in those moments of diversions which takes us out of the monotony of repetitive consistency? Do we need diversions? Did everyone, all the time, throughout history, forever and a day always engage in diversionary activities? Or, was there a time in the pure state of nature where survival was always at a cost of constant vigilance, and where diversions were considered as potentially dangerous activities leading to death?
Fortunately, modernity has engendered an unspoken truce — where busy-ness prevails for 5 days of the week, with the sixth being set aside for chores and the seventh (isn’t that what God ordained?) as a day of rest, or for diversions diversely dignified in dapper dalliances of discursive delightfulness (sorry for the alliteration, but it cannot be resisted unless relatively reorganized for really rotten reasons). Excuse the diversion of amusing myself.
For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition such that the medical condition itself becomes the primary diversion, it is likely time to consider filing for Federal Disability Retirement through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management. Diversions are ultimately meant for relaxation; medical conditions are “anything but” that.
Consult with an attorney who specializes in FERS Disability Retirement Law, lest the diversions that were meant to help us escape from the harshness of the work-a-day world becomes instead another reality of debilitating consequences.
Robert R. McGill, Esquire