Oof

That was me, landing on the couch.

I like my job, but returning after nine lovely days away was not exactly an event of celebration for me. Oh, sure, the beach is not my personal vacation spot of choice, but pretzel-shaped donuts, sunwashed pictures, and fresh seafood do much to win me over. Even after a certain hassle stemming from my simple desire for a red Ocean City sweatshirt that involved one faulty screen print and then a second sweatshirt that I took home only to realize that the pattern was crooked, four lazy days at home following the family vacation had sufficiently buffered me before my return to my nine-to-five existence.

What a struggle to put on nice clothing in the morning! Shorts and a t-shirt would certainly not fit the bill today, and I burned anew against the no-jeans policy. When I got to my office, I glanced at my phone for that flashing red light, but — yes! No voicemail! Wading through my inbox was quick work of weeding out mass mailings, marking others for follow-up, and doing whatever it took to get rid of that number of unread messages.

To my relief, the day passed fairly quickly, partially due to my lunchtime field trip to my old office. I went back to return a loaner book that I had been holding hostage for months, and I ended up chatting with two former co-workers for the better part of an hour, catching up on who was still there, who was having kids, and who was promoted. We made informal, “someday” plans to take advantage of the half-price burger night at a local bar, and I left feeling strangely homesick for the camaraderie of that office but still glad that I had moved on. And then I dropped clothes off at the dry cleaner, and I had forgotten to bring the one dress that actually had a stain on it. Of course.

When I got home, JG was waiting with a dinner of penne vodka and a calm, worn-out Ted. I changed into pajamas, and the only things left in my day were to wash the dinner dishes and veg out on the couch with a rerun of How I Met Your Mother. Ah, yes.

Maybe I should consider weeknights as mini vacations. Yeah, that sounds better.