My last week on the job came to a premature end with a good injury; i.e., the kind that looks dramatic, gets you a trip to the E.R. and a month’s supply of Vicodin and Valium, but doesn’t really do any damage. Stay off my feet? No heavy lifting or contorting my back? At least three days off? YEAH BABY WOOHOO I mean, uh, oh, darn. What a shame. Such bad luck.
So, I’m done. Bruised and weary, but I don’t have to go back except to return my gear. I already feel like a huge weight is off my back.
I walked outside this morning and was greeted with a noticeable chill in the air, enough to make my exhalations visible as vapor. I stood there for a few minutes, breathing it in, adjusting my senses to prepare for the coming of autumn after a brutally scorching summer in which I spent most of working outside. Me, a person who would never leave the house between April and October if he could help it. Chilly weather, though — one brush with it, and I feel better already.
It’s all good now. I have a few ideas to check out for obtaining filthy lucre, one that even involves books and working on the computer all day! But first, I think I’ll take my first extended bit of time off since high school. Reading and blogging; oh, how I’ve missed you.