My time off from work is over and it feels as if I’ve never been away. How quickly I managed to fall back into the same routine. Up at 5.30 in the morning, exercises 3 days a week, laundry done, dishwasher emptied, lunches made, then off to work at 7.45 wishing I had left just a little bit earlier to miss all the traffic.
At work I do the same things over and over. Lunch at 12.30 and we all do the quiz in the newspaper. Pack up and leave sometime between 4.15 and 4.30. The same drive, probably with the same traffic. Stop at the supermarket to pick up whatever I’ve run out of. Then home to change, sort the laundry, make dinner and collapse in front of the television. Unless of course, it happens to be one of the days I take my son to football training or do my volunteer work. Next month I will be trying to fit in some study as well.
Weekends, which are reasonable relaxing at the moment, will soon also be over run with activity once basketball and football start up again. Not to mention taking my son to work when he gets a shift. Oh, and my social life has suddenly picked up – I have a wedding to go to in a week and a bit, then the next weekend I’m going out for drinks with some friends.
But I’m glad I’m busy. I hate to think what sort of a couch potato I would turn into if I was occupied most of the time. In my time off, when I wasn’t running around helping my son move out of home, I found it far too easy to stretch out in front of the television watching whatever mindless show was on at the time.
So I do welcome my routine. It keeps me sane.