The end of summer...really

All good things must come to an end. I don't know who came up with this proverb, but apparently it's true both for Dutch and English speakers, and subsequently, I went back to work on Monday.

I mean, yesterday.

I honestly think the reason I wrote "Monday" instead is because it feels as though I've been back for weeks. Months, even.

Needless to say, after three months of teaching one measly online course, floating around in my pool, doing triathlons, traveling, entertaining friends, and spending far too much time at our local coffee establishment, I am really not ready to go back to work. Just the thought of dealing with emails, students with their million-and-one questions, classes, syllabi, research projects, conferences, just thinking about it all is enough to wear me out.

Personally, I blame the three months off for this. Until I moved to Georgia, I'd never had three months off straight. A week or two, a few days here and there, that was about it. And you know, when you take just a week off at a time, your body doesn't get the opportunity to get used to this whole laid-back, stay-at-home-stepmom/housekeeper thing. Every morning that you don't have to go to work feels like a surprise, and so whenever you go back to work, you're like a wound up coil, ready to spring back to into action.

But give someone three months without serious work-related responsibilities, and they just become major sloths. At least I do. Sure, I'll write an article here, and a research paper there, and teach a class or two, but there's really no pace to speak of, and any sense of urgency or pressure goes right out the window. I'll sleep hours after husband-dear has left for work, waking up at such daring hours such as eight in the morning. I'll wander around in my pajamas, wear old clothes and really short shorts, spend hours on the phone, let my hair run wild, and generally just slow down. A lot. Oh, and worry about things like, should I clean the fridge today? Or tomorrow?

Yesterday, when I noticed that our fridge drawers had, in my absence last week, become somewhat of a mess again, all I was able to do was close them, and move on, as I had to get to work.

And do you have any idea how hard that is? Especially when you're wearing nice pants and a dress shirt for the first time in months? I had no idea those items of clothing were that confining.

I'm not saying I want to be a stay at home anything, at least not out loud. Or to strangers. But, let me tell you, right now, that's looking pretty good. Not in the least because my kitchen needs me. Possibly more than my students do.
It's a good thing I was born with a true sense of Dutch-Calvinist work ethic.
I think.