I don’t cope well with the end of a holiday. That sunshine, that relaxation, that sense of being far, far away and not having to do anything you don’t want to? I live for that. I don’t want those long, lazy evening walks in hazy sunshine to end, nor the late sleep ins, the endless food and drink and chance to finally do some reading. I am very accomplished at letting the weight of the world drag me down and holidays are a bit of a lifeline for me. I try as hard as I can to stay positive, and just be thankful that I got a lovely week away, but the truth is, time just goes so damn fast when you’re enjoying yourself, and try as I may I can’t help feeling the blues start to creep in even before it’s over. This is the last time I’ll see the sea for a while. This is the last time I’ll feel this warmth walking around at night. The last time I’ll get to eat this bread. The last time we’ll wake up in this room. Going home seems like such a crash back down to earth, returning to reality, drizzle, early starts and UGHWORK. I want to drag every last second out of that precious time that belongs to us and us only.
I’m sounding like a right cheerful little treasure, aren’t I??
Coming home, in reality, isn’t so bad though. We are so fortunate and have so much to be thankful for. We have a lovely house, that has been transforming while I was away and I was excited to see what progress the builders had made. We have wonderful friends and family, and had a few lovely plans booked in for the weekend. We didn’t have to worry about work for a little while longer, landing at the start of a Bank Holiday, and even the weather decided to play ball despite it looking a little rainy when we touched down at the airport. Best of all though, we got to be reunited with our beloved pup, Bonnie! I don’t think longer than a few hours would pass each day without me sighing, ‘I miss the dog…’ so we were really looking forward to seeing her. She was super excited (a little too excited actually, we arrived home at approx 3.30am and tried to sneak in without waking her up, but she heard us and was not willing to sleep when there was a happy reunion on the cards!) My furry little bestie manages to cheer me up even when I’m in the most melancholy of moods, and as much as I love getting away, I could never leave her for good, so all good things must come to an end at some point. Yep, coming home really isn’t so bad and I’d do well to remind myself of that more often. And of course if we were on a constant holiday it just wouldn’t be as special, right?
I do miss that bread though…
Love,
Picking the Day 