The long Thanksgiving weekend is over, but it barely feels as if a weekend occurred. Experts say that more people travel during this period than at any other time. I did my fair share of driving; throw in some work time, and it almost didn’t feel like a weekend.

It’s hard to tell when the weekend started and ended, because I was in motion most of the time. I put in a couple hours of work on Thursday morning, then drove over an hour to my parents’ place for the traditional Thanksgiving meal. Hung around for a couple hours, which gave me time to catch part of the football game.

Then it was back in the car for a nearly two-hour drive to the cabin. Arrived late afternoon Thursday, and managed a few relaxing hours reading and listening to music.

Had to get up early Friday morning, though. Wanted to get in a half-day of deer hunting. No luck, unfortunately.

Packed and left by about noon for the trip back to the folks’ place, where I camped out for a couple hours. Left late afternoon for the drive back home. That meant a bit over an hour in the car again.

I had to get up early Saturday morning for a meeting, then hit the road to visit a friend who lives about two hours away. Left there mid-afternoon Sunday.

After more than 10 hours of driving covering well over 500 miles, I wonder where the weekend went. It’s an indication, perhaps, of our lifestyle. Years ago parents would pack the kids into a station wagon and head off to a rented cabin for a week. Now we’re lucky to pull away for a weekend.

To what end? We say we enjoy ourselves while engaged in such a hectic schedule–at times I felt very relaxed–but afterward one senses that the body didn’t really get a chance to recoup.

Consultants earn a fortune teaching business people how to manage their professional time more wisely. What about our personal time? Do we care as much about that?