Holiday Update


My holidays are half over!  Well, this round, anyway.  I still have two more weeks this summer and a week at Christmas.  Seniority doesn’t count for much where I work, we’re not unionized or anything, but they are VERY generous with the holidays.

So far, I had a birthday, went to my knitting group, did a whole lot of knitting and finished some long-dormant projects, met with a counsellor and went up to Bracebridge to see a friend’s band with Thing One.  Nothin’ flashy.  Thing One has come back to Peterborough and is visiting for a few days, which is lovely.  This coming week there’s the annual baseball tournament (which I’m not sure I’m going to go to), a doctor’s appointment so I can find out why my stupid joints are so stiff all the time, and a multi-purpose trip to Hamilton.  It’s multipurpose in that I’m a) seeing the little fellas; b) drinkin’ with mah bro; and c) attending my sister-in-law’s Stitchapalooza night, which sounds like it involves drinking, knitting and eating, which are certainly three of MY very favourite things.

It’s all a little hollow at the moment.  I’m feeling a bit empty; a bit “what next”; a bit “what have I done”, but I think I’m on the right course.  I’ve been neglecting the gym this week, and smoking a little bit, but I think I can get back into my routine when I get back to work next week.  Holidays are for lying around and doing what you want to do, especially holidays that don’t involve plans and travelling.  I think sometimes trips are more stress than they’re worth.  I don’t like itineraries and travel connections, motion sickness, and strange beds.  Accommodating travel companions can be stressful as well.  I like “staycations”.  I know the sheets are clean, I know how the coffeepot works and checkout time is never.

So, I have one more week of doing whatever the hell I want, which is fun, but it’s kind of bad for me.  Once I get back to my routine, it’s gym-work-no smoking-go check out the Unitarians like you said you would.  I’m so leery and shy about going to church.  Friend Barb told me that when she was a kid, they would give newcomers a green cup at coffee hour so that parishioners would know to talk to them.  I don’t want the green cup!


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