Last week I took a week off work.
It’s been a hell of a long time since I had that much time off – almost a year in fact – and I can’t even begin to tell you how much I needed it. In the days running up to it, my attitude stunk – it was as though the mere thought of a bit of a holiday was causing me to go into shut down mode. The closer I got, the more I felt like I couldn’t cope without one! I was crabby, tired and overly emotional, the slightest mishap induced the threat of tears and any normally minor irritation caused far more rage inside me than is reasonable. Worst of all, in those last few days, I stopped caring. I just didn’t care about anything work related, and really had to force myself to put on a poker face and carry on adulting until my last day. It really was time for a break.
The time finally came (why is it that the month of your holiday seems to whizz around faster than you could ever have imagined, yet the last week before you go off takes an age to pass??) and I’ve had the most lovely week, starting with a weekend up in Scotland visiting our businesses with the girls from work (I suppose in theory I could call that a business trip, but I would feel hard pushed to call it ‘work’ really – more on that another day!) and followed by a few days in Somerset with my beloved and the pup. But you know how holidays are – despite having a wonderful time, when you’re away you feel obliged to ‘do stuff’ and make the most of your time off, and end up almost as busy as when you were at work (but in a much, much more pleasant way of course). What I was really yearning when I got back at the end of the week was a rest – I just wanted to spend a couple of days doing pretty much nothing, and that is exactly what I’ve done!
In fact, I’ve done that pretty much all weekend! Other than a couple of dog walks, some work on the blog prepping for a theme change (part of that layout change I’ve been harping on about for the last year or so but done nothing about -classic Steph) and an accidental mini-splurge in Primark, I’ve basically done nothing all weekend. Bank holidays used to mean drinking for me. Bank holidays in the sunshine meant double drinking! And while I felt the odd twinge when scrolling through Facebook, I resisted the urge to start ringing round and see who fancied a trip to the pub, and focused instead on some R&R and time to myself. And despite me usually having massive FOMO, I actually found it rather blissful!
The best day had to be Friday though. There is simply nothing more relaxing than knowing everyone else is at work, is there? I’ve always felt like holidays don’t really count if you’re sharing them with the rest of the nation, so Friday, when the sun was at it’s hottest and the majority of my friends were toiling away in the office (sorry friends, but I did feel really smug about that!) felt very special. My parents were away for the day in London, so I was completely alone, and with the neighbours all at work and the kids all at school, I was able to have a very rare, and very lovely, afternoon in the garden, where all I could hear was the breeze in the trees and the birds singing, and I could just sit in the warm glow of the sun and enjoy the peace and calm around me. On days like this there is a part of me that feels naughty for not being at work, as though someone might turn up any minute demanding to know what I’m doing and frogmarch me back to the office. But they didn’t, of course, and the thought only made my illicit day off that little bit sweeter. The next day the neighbours and their kids returned, the sun went away (of course, because this is England) and the BBQs and lawnmowers came out in force, so chilling in the garden wasn’t quite the same after that, so I’m really grateful for that one secret day on my own.
Hope you all had a wonderful weekend, and managed to get some R&R of your own!
Love,
Picking the Day 