After my last post, I went to the doctor, who diagnosed me with a trio of problems -- bronchitis, an ear infection and pinkeye -- and prescribed a trio of medications to fix them. Then I got on the plane to get away from said problems. It didn't exactly work; the ear infection followed me there, made worse by flying and swimming, and has now somehow transferred itself to my other ear. I can hear about 50% out of one ear and almost nothing from the other, which has made me a LOT more sympathetic to the older people in my life who are constantly asking me to repeat myself.
But . . . vacation. Really letting go. No deadlines, no decisions; nothing to think about but relaxing. I was pleasantly surprised to see how few people at our resort wore any kind of listening device; I was usually the only one with an iPod (I burned through my stack of books by Day 3 and had to switch to audiobooks.) The music of the waves was enough. It was perfect.
My college professor husband has been christened Free-Time Rob by our friends; on a five-week break from school and between semesters, he has few responsibilities. Left to his own devices, he'd throw a party every night (marrying a sanguine was the best thing I've ever done for my social life!) And on vacation, he really lets go. But me, I'm not so good at relaxing. I did manage to leave my computer at home, and I brought only "fun" books -- nothing for school. About Day 5, however, I started to worry about my classes. Had I left adequate instructions? Would the substitute remember to show up? Would my piano students remember not to show up, or would they frighten our house-sitting friend? I thought about what I would say and do on my first day back, how I would lay out the second half of the school year. I was working in spite of myself. Sometimes my task-orientedness (if I can presume to coin that adjective) sickens me.
And now that I've been home for almost a week? I gaze at that photo and wish I were back. I swear, I wouldn't think about school once.