There’s something bittersweet about time off work.
I’ve no doubt said before that despite loving my job I would be more than happy to retire if we were to win the lottery. The long weekend I just had, with Friday as a day off, reinforced that. I loved having more time to be with my husband. Just spend to spend time together, with nothing eating at our time.
And we have had a lovely weekend. On Friday we had a lazy morning, went out for lunch, did a little shopping, and came home for a lazy afternoon. On Saturday, his birthday, his family visited and we had lunch out again. A busy morning before they arrived, to make sure the flat was in order, and start on getting his cake made. And a nice relaxing afternoon.
Today has been reasonably relaxed too, but there’s the undercurrent of knowing it’s over. Knowing that I’ll be back to work tomorrow, back to not having much spare time. (Partly because cards and blogging really eat into my evenings!)
That’s why days off are bittersweet. They’re sweet because we get to spend so much more time together, and the bitterness comes of knowing it can’t last. It can’t always be that way.