Today I have a confession: I’m horrible at being on holidays. I miss the routine of work days, thinking, reading, writing. I become bored quickly, agitated, irritable. A few days of holidays are lovely, and I relish the opportunity to unwind before diving back into work.
But an extended holiday (like the 10 week sojourn of which I’ve only got 3 weeks left) I find difficult. I find I have to set myself up with a few projects: an ambitious reading list, a party to plan, a garden to work on. But sometimes, the hours still seem to stretch out in front of me, and sometimes I struggle to find things to fill them happily.
Patience is what I require – soon enough I’ll be back at work, with a major project underway, and I’ll probably be rosily remembering these halcyon days. I think it’s time to pause for breath and remember everything that’s happened this year, take stock and prepare for the year ahead. December is the strangest of months, I think – it seems that everyone operates at half-speed, half-capacity, eagerly awaiting the end of another year, and the beginning of a new one. Perhaps I’ve got a case of Decemberitis. This space here is definitely help to stay my holiday-induced agitation, and I’m very thankful.