Mrs 6000 has finished work (which doesn’t explain why she’s still writing emails opposite me right now) (hmm) and the kids are long done with anything school-related.
Even the jobs which we need to get sorted before The Move are now getting put on hold for the next few days.
It doesn’t matter that this is going to be a very odd holiday: it’s also going to be a very important holiday after a year which has taken everything from us. And so no, I have no qualms about everyone taking a few days away from “stuff”.
This morning – right now, in fact – I find myself sitting in front of a computer in an office adjoining a laboratory.
This isn’t right, is it? Is it?
Surely there should be boats and fields and seaside and beer and family and sunshine?
Sure there should be… freedom?
But no. We’re back, after yesterday’s marathon twenty-something hour trip. It’s been a truly amazing few weeks away and I’m not quite ready for this sudden return to work. There’s sleep to make up, thoughts to process, photos to edit, stories to share (oh, so many stories – this one was eventful), reviews to post.
And on top of all that, there’s real life to catch up on.
I’m in that weird place between the exhilaration of travel and the crushing realisation that it’s all over. Limbo. A twilight zone.
After a weekend which wasn’t even supposed to be spent at home in Cape Town, I find myself completely drained. I’ve done about a million jobs that I didn’t even know needed doing, but which – with hindsight – I’m actually glad I got out of the way.
There are a big couple of weeks ahead at work before our Europe trip, and I’ve been on the go all day, so I’m going to guide Panama a little closer to World Cup glory on the Playstation, rather than blogging this evening.
If that’s ok with you, that is?*
More – including news of Panama’s latest triumphs – tomorrow.
I’m ready to take the big step of returning to work tomorrow, a mere four weeks, seventeen doctors appointments, twenty-six scans for DVT and one additional operation after I was supposed to go back. It’s been a complete shlep. There are unpaid medical bills littering the floor of the house. Yesterday, I found the beagle nibbling on one from the anaesthesiologist, which might explain a lot about why it sleeps so much.
Or it might just be really lazy.
I’m still not “right”, but I am getting there. I did a bit of driving (as documented here) last week, but the rush hour traffic is not conducive to a phased return to activity (clutch control is important, people), so the long-suffering and always admirable Mrs 6000 will be my taxi at least for tomorrow. And possibly Tuesday as well.
I’ve been up and about a lot more in preparation, and it’s all going well aside from the fact that not being laid up in bed in full RICE mode is actually completely exhausting. And that’s manageable while I’m at home, because I can just go and lie down somewhere.
That’s not really an option in a TB lab.
There’s also the question of drugs. My nighttime regimen includes stuff that leaves me feeling seriously dopey (yes, more so than usual) for large parts of the following morning. I’m expecting it to be rather challenging.
So… this week is surely going to be interesting. At least I have the benefit of a public holiday on Wednesday to break things up a bit and to allow me to recover from what promises to be a bit of a re-baptism by fire.
I wish I was still on holiday. I’ve been back at work for 12 days already, but the vacation vibes don’t seem to be subsiding at all.
This weekend didn’t help. With well-publicised nonsense and criminality in the city and with the conversation revolving almost solely around the ever more likely appearance of Day Zero, the azure waters and sun-soaked beaches of Cape Agulhas seemed like a very good place to be. And to stay.
Sadly, of course, it can’t be. Our lives are here in Cape Town: home, work, school, dessicated garden. But I want to relive the morning I spent hovering 120m over the rocks and just watching my HD display.
And so I shall:
I’ll be honest, it’s not helping. And that’s mainly because when I look out of the window of the dull, grey laboratory, all I see is dull, grey skies.
Tomorrow evening I have to reset my alarm to basically the middle of the night so the kids can get to school on time.
The traffic will be back. Properly back.
And my front sausage has got a hole in its side – just from exposure to the sun and general wear and tear, I think.