Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Six Weeks

The dogs and I got soaked in the rain today.

I've had six weeks off from work. Six weeks at home--not doing much. I've gloried in it. I've read books. I've done almost nothing. And I have very rarely gotten into the damned car and gone anywhere.

I love this home.

The rib is better. I could take a couple more weeks off, but the political situation at work probably means I should get back as quickly as possible. However, I have come to the point where if I never had to go back to the workaday world of psychiatric nursing, I wouldn't go. It isn't that I don't like what I do: I do.

It is more that I like it here. I like the smell of the wood stove. I like this solitude. I like my dog walks. I like spending time with this family. I wish I didn't have to leave.

But I do. Soon. It sucks.


Tim Koppenhaver said...

Sounds like your break from the routine was a good one despite the cracked rib. It freed you up to experience life in a different way. Good luck transitioning back into the world of the rest of us day to day grinders.

Take care.


Allan Stellar said...


Thanks. Next time around (if there is a next time), I'm gonna come back as an inheritor of a fortune. I'm much more suited to be a trustfunder than being an employed breadwinner.

Barb said...

Yes - I can understand your feelings. I'm retired and can't imagine losing the solitude and time that gives me.