My brain quits at 3. It'll start again, later, but between 3 and dinnertime, there's nothin' doing. Theoretically, organically, naturally, this is not a problem - it's only human to require a mid-afternoon break. In Spain, people close their shops and head home for a siesta. In kindergarten, you roll yourself out on the floor and rest your brain and body from all the hard work of finger-painting and playground-running that fill an elementary school day.
But here, in the 9-5 workaday office world, this is when the brain needs to kick it up a notch. There are e-mails to be sent, spreadsheets to be completed, displays to be plotted before the day ends. My schedule is determined not by my brain's stubborn productivity schedule, but by my housemates' transportation needs and dinner plans. We leave work at 4:30 - sharp. Dinner happens whenever the cook finishes preparing it. And in between, and after, there are all the details of life together to contend with - shuttling people to places they need to be, doing grocery shopping, cleaning the kitchen, replacing the curtain rod that fell on my head yesterday morning, or transplanting peonies into the yard. Work doesn't happen at home; it happens at work.
But the work is not finished. And so, though I have already planned a worship service, finalized a planning team, written a brochure, and fielded several random e-mail inquiries about my work today, I will press on. For another half an hour.
But I assure you, my brain will be demanding overtime.