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A week off, a week of poetry and the beach (one good, the other tolerable - at least the weather was better...). And tomorrow is back to work. I don't know what will be waiting when I arrive, tons of email or little, answers to questions asked before I left or new tasks (or both, more likely). I'll find out when I get there, but I think I'm ready to face the transition even if part of me does want to go on as I was...the sign of a good experience, I suppose. And I didn't help the transition (but I did make myself happy!) when I spent the evening reading and writing.
I've rearranged my backpack. (This is important. Spare bandaids, a flashlight, an alarm clock, an extra hand-towel, etc., are unlikely to be of particular use at the office...although they might cause some amusement when I pulled them out instead of my notebook. Or consternation, if I took those and forgot my lunch.)
I go to bed now, though. I am rather tired today for some reason - the heat, I think, and leftover tired from the week of questionable sleep.
I've rearranged my backpack. (This is important. Spare bandaids, a flashlight, an alarm clock, an extra hand-towel, etc., are unlikely to be of particular use at the office...although they might cause some amusement when I pulled them out instead of my notebook. Or consternation, if I took those and forgot my lunch.)
I go to bed now, though. I am rather tired today for some reason - the heat, I think, and leftover tired from the week of questionable sleep.
