It's official. I'm back to being a slug. We're waking up late everyday, going to bed late, doing a whole lot of nothing in between. I've spent way too much time on the phone and facebook, and (this is the clincher) I'm reading fiction again.
It's been nice but surprisingly I'm not enjoying it as much as I thought I would. I actually miss waking up early and getting stuff done. Oddly, I miss having something constantly hanging over my head. It really comes down to me not having lots of small goals and then meeting them. Nothing gives a sense of accomplishment like meeting set goals. My previous schedule may have been a tad crazy but at least I felt productive. I see now how people become addicted to the frenetic pace. Luckily, that's not my natural personality; I definitely have a built in limit.
I suppose I should be glad that our holiday is ending soon, that life will resume on Monday when the kids go back to school and the dance studio reopens. In two weeks, I have to go back to work again. I've missed it, and yet, I'm not completely looking forward to it. Go figure. Good thing that it's not up to me, that it's coming despite my ambiguous feelings.