Earlier this week, I ran to Home Depot to pick up water softener for my friend Tim's residential water system. As I was loading 300 lbs. of salt into my car, the guys next to me were loading two toilets and a water heater onto a small trailer when one of them dropped a loud F-bomb. Stepping back from the now-loaded toilet, he remarked to no one in particular that "it isn't a good day of work if you don't get a scrape, scar, or bruise."

For those of us whose fingers massage keyboards (instead of our hands wielding hammers), what defines a good day of work? Is it the delivery of solid work product to a client? Is it rubbing your temples on the way towards a cocktail? Is it an empty inbox.

The electronic economy doesn't have the parameters of the workshops where artisans before us labored. Heck, the electronic economy doesn't even sleep. Some days, I admire my friend Tim who swings a hammer from October to April and runs a seasonal deli in the summer. In his construction schedule, his work day ends when the winter sun hits the horizon. In the summer, he's never pulled an all-nighter at the meat slicer, although he stands more hours behind the counter than most big firm associates sit each day. But every day at 6:30 PM, he's done.

What are your shop hours in the electronic economy?