Why is it that five days into my long awaited holiday I'm still dreaming of and worrying about students and work? It is always the students that I struggle to help who haunt my dreams. Rarely the ones who find me helpful. Given how shaky things have been at times I'm wondering when I will finally come to rest and my active mind settled down.
Normally the first week is okay. Then the anxiety creeps in. It is so foolish. Must learn to relax better than I have been. I have no need to fret, the holiday is the holiday. Miriam is coming tomorrow. I'm getting the train to Kent on Friday. Katherine is coming down for lunch on Sunday. Not until Monday do I return home. Then my thoughts will turn to my friend Tory who I will meet Friday week and then the big dinner in Cambridge.
Having decided that life is too short to be tying my own bow ties I bought a fake one. Trying it out for size I suspect it won't be as simple as I'd hoped. Will need a mirror to see where the hook is.
So good things are coming. And it's opera night. I never tire of listening to Figaro and on this rather humid night I have chilled glass of Sauvignon Blanc. Unusually for me I cooked pasta for supper, just a simple sauce of shallot, garlic and tomatoes with a touch of parsley and some pancetta. Worked quite well.
What will tomorrow bring? I turn 49, that step closer to the big 50. Sounds most strange that I have survived this long. I'm perhaps not always the healthiest of people but I eat well, probably have more fruit and vegetables than most non vegetarians and I have certainly cut the drinking in recent years. And stopped smoking.
On my dark days I fear I have achieved nothing. Today is a neutral day on that front. Let's hope soon I get back to celebrating what has been, dismissing what might have been and come now to the day that is today. A day with Mozart, wine and a break. That can't be bad.
I Heard a Voice.
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