Blonde's Eye View: Back to work

By Rob Virtue on July 28, 2010 1:36 PM

For Angela Clarke coming home is not the best thing about going away

Two days before I return from any holiday I start to worry about going back to work.

I only have two days left. My sunlounger is practically my desk. It's a stupid fear - each
Friday I'm delighted to have only two days off. Two days is plenty of time to still get drunk, lie in, enjoy the beach. But I can't help myself.

I tell myself to ignore the dread - have another Mojito. But the storm clouds start gathering and my holiday sunshine disappears.

My mind ticks over with everything I need to do when I return. Like the washing.

How does one small suitcase turn into five massive loads? I'm sure I've brought back someone else's dirty pants along with my own.

And I was supposed to send postcards. And buy presents. Something inoffensive for my neighbour who watered the cat.

Something witty or charmingly exotic for my work colleagues. Preferably edible. They get the finest duty free can offer: M&Ms.

I start a list. Forget those Roman ruins I wanted to visit, I need to start planning.

If I can just get everything organised before I have to start work then I can prolong the relaxed holiday vibe.

But it's game over. By picking up the pen I'm back in work mode.

This year I didn't bother keeping up the pretence. I came home eight hours early.

No point trying to enjoy lunch with a sea view, when I'm fretting about the size of my inbox. During the journey back I ordered an Ocado delivery.

I was so busy trying to make sure everything was "just so" before work I got little sleep Sunday night.

Arriving at Canary Wharf battered by the commute, tired from the night before and without my fresh fruit salad buffet breakfast I've been enjoying the last few weeks, I look just as drained as before I went away.

Aah, home sweet home.