Last call

Last days of vacation. I hate those, since they are the most stressful. Probably because when a vacation starts, I always load myself up with tasks & 'to do's', most of which I obviously don't accomplish, rest and avoiding tasks soon becoming my priority. So, I shouldn't be surprised that once more, I have not done half the things I set out to do during my vacation, even the important ones. I rested by living another life, a slower beat with no hours, no day and no night, no right time to eat breakfast or sleep, and not worrying about the next day (since it was always another vacation day, anyways), since only the ones that had a 24 or 31 attached to them seemed important.

I have readied myself for the last weekend and this last day of the year with a coffee for the morning (morning not yet defined by a.m.), the people that matter for the night, an old friend's letters, and a few old philosophers and the album that touches me to fill in the cracks. I guess that should be plenty, for this last call.

It is a shame that those tasks & 'to do's', those lists (starting by my resolutions) and every number and name attached to every day now resurface and threaten the comfortable little womb I had knit for myself.

Vacations are never what we expect them to be. But I appreciated that unexpected, however mundane it may have seemed.