It’s been quite a strange sort of summer for me. I’ve been off work for the longest period since graduating ten years ago; partly by accident – a contract finishing unexpectedly early – but I wasn’t exactly complaining. Josh said ‘it’s the happiest you’ve seemed in ages’ and it was indeed the most blissful sort of brain/life/reality break. I’m the type of person who luxuriates in having time to myself: to cook, sew, walk the London parks I haven’t been to yet, meet with old friends and do little jobs around the house so I was really in my element being able to set my own schedule and keep as busy and sociable as I felt like without the demands of a 9-to-5.
All good things come to an end though – and girl’s gotta make some money – so it was back to work today. It wasn’t actually as painful as I expected: partly because I’m really excited about my new job, and partly I think the break meant my mind was feeling refreshed and ready to be stretched a bit again.
The final hurrah of the free life was a quick trip to Iceland last week. I went with my old company a year ago for an event and was itching to go back to actually have a proper look around. Other than being an unfortunately expensive place to find yourself when you haven’t been paid for two months, it was the perfect end to a breather of a summer. Fresh salt-tinged air, nose-tingly cold, brutal concrete, and the tiniest glimpses of dolphins and northern lights.