Or finish.

Besides, I need one by Monday.

Maybe I'll sneak over to yours, climb under your manicured hedges and follow the sound of running water.

Faced with the frightening prospect of a few days off, I read with great care the Your House section of Friday's Independent about meditation gardens.

That's because I have a scrip for a megadose of peace and quiet for my little vacation, an IV drip of equanimity, a hit of calm, hours of naps and at least a spoonful of serenity. Now!

The stress diagnosis is mine; the course of therapy is also mine, known in health and legal fields as self-medication.

Short of a garden for reflection and comfort, stress reducing comes in many forms: a cup of soothing tea, a hot bath, a massage, actual meditation, a deep breath or five, exercise, prayer.

Retirement.

Oh, I almost forgot. A week without deadlines might also stanch the flow of the little epinephrine rivulet trickling out of my stress reservoir.

So a few days of a total out-of-office experience is just what the doctor in this case me ordered.

Getting behind

It's obvious we need more gardens, too.

According to the American Psychological Association, nearly a third of U.S. adults surveyed last year report feeling "extreme stress" and said their stress had gone up in the last five years. Nearly half the respondents indicated stress was a natural-occurring part of their lives, an essential shrug to the rigors of modern living.

The medical profession sees it differently. According to Webmd.com, stress can be a contributing factor in cardiovascular disease, a diminishing of the immune system, muscle pain, intestinal problems, exacerbating lung and breathing conditions, skin problems and unhealthy sleep patterns.

Oh, my.

Plus, when's the last time you wanted to be around someone describing themselves as "completely stressed?" That's because irritability, intolerance and lost tempers are among our best traits when we are wigged out.

Despite this evidence, if you're like me (I wish better for you), you're still negotiating a break from the madness with the rubber band a couple pulls past Defcon 1.

You know the feeling: I'm exhausted. I have a headache. I can't think straight. I haven't smiled since Fred Thompson was a candidate. I have 714 days of vacation saved up. I can't breathe. I can infect hundreds if I show up tomorrow.

Maybe I should take a couple days off.

Nay, I'll get behind.

Green stretch

Granted, we need to be responsible. But why show up in the face of overwhelming evidence that we shouldn't? Why lose time off, justifying our worth via vacation martyrdom? (Harris Interactive estimates that Americans failed to take 438 million vacation days in 2007.)

I have had supervisors send me home, however, suggesting my presence was something akin to a handshake with Typhoid Mary. Another didn't say I was burned out, but he hinted I was singed around the edges.

So before you find me weeping openly in your garden, I'm taking some time off, right now, as soon as you get to the end of this column.

And I plan to get a massage and sleep and read and relax and exercise and drink a cup of soothing tea.

I'll not retire; I'd get too far behind.

Nor will I build a meditation garden.

That's because I already have one: a green stretch of lawn, a warm day, a line of clouds lazing across a blue sky and the time (and a kid if you're lucky) to watch them dawdle by.