It’s rained all day, so as there didn’t really seem any reason to go out, we’ve holed up and had a mini-Sunday. I put the fairy lights on as it got dark – they always look cosy, and realised I still have a bowl of Christmas baubles out. No point in putting them away now. It’s been a lovely day off.
I have a week off and I’m not actually going anywhere on holiday. This is amazing and a first for me. I have never, in 27 years of working, had any time off to just STAY AT HOME.
After a big holiday in April and with another holiday planned in December, there wasn’t really the money, or the inclination to arrange to go away this week. We could have slipped off to a European destination, but the thought of organising it, packing and paying for it just left me a bit cold. So here we are, Friday night of ahead of the week off and a world of possibilities awaits.
I am a little worried that I’m going to waste the time, that I’ll wake up next Monday to go to work and realise I haven’t rested or I’ve spent all week pottering around and doing the ironing. So I’m going to make a list. In time-honoured-project-manage-the-shit-out-of-everything tradition a list shall be crafted.
The weekend is taken care of, plans have been made and bookings confirmed. But next week stretches out like a long oasis of nothing. I might do some yoga. I might go to the gym. I might go into London. I might read a book. The luxury and fear of a completely unconstructed week excites and scares me in equal measure.
Ah well, let’s dive in and see what happens…