For I am now on holiday for the next 16 days. I nobly did all the laundry on my return home, cleaned and sorted out the backpack before flinging its contents into the Large Box With Lid To Hide All Work Related Items, and did a couple of admin jobs before I forgot about them (including checking my on-line pay slip to see what the discrepancy was + resolving that mystery to my satisfaction. It will added on next month’s pay – I was more concerned I’d not been paid for the extra I did pre-inspection.)
So, until some get up and go returns to me, (and I’m perfectly happy if it doesn’t) I shall remain on the sofa, moving only for essential needs and wants.
Now, for the next 16 days I refuse to contemplate
- the joys of commuting
- the 16 -19 year old of the species (I’m very fond of them, and I enjoy my job, but we need a break from each other!)
- any aspect of my work environment
- the joys of finishing the decorating. (You thought you’d heard the last of that, didn’t you? Sorry about that, but there really isn’t much more to go!)
- the interesting aspects of what may be found around the Number 11 bus route, and which information, shockingly, does not already exist on the Internet. I was failed by the Internet search I did, which did not tell me how many places of worship existed on it. “Someone will have counted, there’s a whole Wiki page devoted to it and I know it says schools and hospitals and pubs…” .I said blithely and confidently to the person with whom I was discussing how many churches I’ve gone to using the Number 11. Three and a half hours later, after a fruitless Internet search, and with a bus day ticket looking at me reproachfully, I staggered through my front door to write up all I had discovered on my journey round the route. (There may be a whole other blog post on this one.)
- what I’m going to be doing for Holy Week
- what I’m going to be doing to relax!