Two days ago I stepped off of the shuttle from work for the last time. I grew quite fond of the ride home from work over the past four months. I can't think of a better transition from work to home: it's simply an hour to sit and be driven.
Yesterday morning I relinquished residence at the poorhouse. I wouldn't feel out of line in claiming that 90% of society would not categorize a single aspect of living there as normal.
I should probably be feeling more nostalgic at this point but I'm beginning to think that the anxiety which I should also be feeling has developed a synergy with any wistful sentiment as I feel strangely calm.
In fact, it isn't just calm but contentment as well. Things really are good in this moment: no working for a wile, epic skiing in the 5-day forecast, a flight to catch...all of my current obligations are sheerly for pleasure. I need to remember it--how better to bring perspective to darker times than the notion of such a velvety warm and washing moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment