Sardines

Mondays are days to return to work. After a long, four day weekend, I anticipate a truck load of work awaiting me when I return. Taking time off work always comes with a price and it takes several days to recover and get caught back up. Likewise, it takes about three full days off to actually get to the psychological point that I am “off work”. I should learn to never take more than three days unless I am taking a full week off, otherwise it just feels cruel. I finally relaxed yesterday; I got all the raining Matrix lists that run in my CPU of a brain to stop and I had relative silence. It’s like being able to finally catch a full, deep breath – many deep breaths. But this morning I am back on the blocks. This week is fractured, with July 4th smack in the middle but I have after hour interviews and meetings. The sardines in a can feeling is intense. It is why I am thankful I live in a small town. There is minimal driving. There is less pressure to go to the festival, show, opening, fancy restaurant or place-to-be-seen. So, I simplify and refocus: pack lunch, office, exercise, construction site, home, dinner, bed. Wash, rinse, repeat. In the blink of an eye, it will be Friday and I have a massage appointment after work. Now that is something to anticipate.