Where There’s a Whip There’s a Way

I’ve been basking in the joy of several weeks off. Well, insomuch as a whale may be considered to be basking when beached. Sedentary. Lump-like. If it where not for basic requirements, I would now be sporting a fine layer of dust. Fine as in delightful. Just so you get my meaning. I do not consider this to be a waste of a holiday. I revel in it. I can think of no better use for time off than brain off.

It’s back to work tomorrow, though. You may think I’d be ready now. A rest, respite, and now renewal. Well, as Logan will tell you, there is no renewal, no sanctuary. I’d happily continue this holiday like H. George Wells, sitting in his time machine, watching the world crumble to dust about him.

But there will be none of that. To earn these breaks one must, well, earn. So back to work I go, and the transition is never smooth for me. With time off comes sleeping in, and I consider myself something of a master. A narco-Jedi if you will. Obi Yawn Kenobi. Within days of starting a vacation, I’m going to bed at 4AM and waking up after noon. I have sense enough to use the final few days to help reverse that trend, but it still makes for a rough Monday morning. At least my commute will be across a sunless -20°C landscape. That has a way of waking you up.