After 11 days of vacation I return to work. I went in last night to pack some food in Kyle's legacy refrigerator so I could start having healthier lunches, but also to see how it felt to be back. It felt okay. Today I enjoyed helping various folks out with back-to-school computer tasks. Tom asked if I was "relaxed and recovered"; I admitted to the first but protested my inability to ever achieve the second. "I hate this place," I said cheerfully.
The erstwhile bitterness in my heart has mutated into a kind of brittle good humor. I was on my guard at all times at work. Clipped in speech. Briskly efficient.
Day one down. (365*2)-(52*2)-holidays & vacations to go. For the moment I've decided to look at it as a prison sentence. And what a great prison! They pay me, let me out for hours and hours each day. No lock-down. No guards. A sweet sentence, easy to serve.