Barely two days back into life after an amazing break, and I find myself confused. I woke this morning, and although I was in my bed, I did not know where I was. Worse yet, I didn’t have a clue what day it was. My brain kept insisting today was Saturday. The normal annoyance of the 9 to 5 demands escalated to DEFCON 1 in a matter of minutes. You’d be annoyed too if your boss kept emailing, texting, and calling you for reports while you were in the middle of creating your backyard Margaritaville. Flamingo wrangling is strenuous work, and they don’t mix well with the parrots. Speaking of parrots—did you know some of them use fowl language?
Where there were once neat, ordered procedures, carefully designed schedules, and the soothing buzz of an efficient, well-oiled machine working in the background, chaos now reigns. The cupboards are bare, crushed cereal covers the rugs, family members stage duels for the last clean towel, and nobody has seen the cat for over a week. Food disappears from the bowl, so I assume either Furball has donned his invisibility cloak, or we have other unwanted guests.
There is always a price to pay for taking a vacation. Last-minute, unplanned departures mean zero preparation for a smooth reentry to domestic routines. It might take a few more days, but everything will be okay. Even if it isn’t, there’s booze in the blender, and the real Saturday is almost here.
How do you deal with chaos?
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer