Well, it's Saturday morning. At least, for now. In 48 hours I will be at work again. I'm not sure I'm ready yet. Nine days in Italy, then a week back home to recover. Not that I'm wishing to be one of the popular unemployed of Elkhart County, but I could get used to just hanging around the house, walking outside when I feel like it, sleeping in and such. But I remember the short amount of time when I was unemployed about a decade ago, and I really didn't like it all that much. Plus, the cute little phrase "I owe, I owe, so back to work I go" keeps making its way into my brain, proving once again that my mind is powered by dwarves.
This week, besides relaxing and cleaning the house, we took our oldest son down to Ball State for a college visit, where he promptly fell in love with the campus and talked more than I've heard him talk in a year. It's a very nice campus, I was impressed. It's just... college? Should I even be able to say "oldest son" and "college" in the same sentence without falling into sobbing fits of rage at the passage of time?
I have been reading. I posted the books up on my list, but I haven't discussed them yet. A couple of days ago I woke up and didn't get out of bed until I'd read an entire book. I don't feel particularly like delineating all of the good, the bad, and the ugly of these books, but I liked each of them. Right now I'm reading "Gracie: A Love Story" by George Burns. I liked the other George Burns book I read earlier in the year, so I thought I'd give this one a shot.
This was short, I know, but my heart's not in it at the moment. Too much to do, floating around inside my brain: shower, breakfast, brush teeth, go to District Marching Band competition, maybe the Apple Festival if we have time, church, take the movie back we watched last night, and try to savor the fleeting moments of freedom I have left before going back to work.
The worst part of vacation is always when reality comes crashing back down on your head the following Monday morning.