It’s the school holidays. Six weeks off. Imagine what you could do with that time now?

After the last day in the office, where we would bring in board games to play and be allowed to sit outside all afternoon if the weather was good, we would have 42 days off.

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That’s a lot of lie-ins. That’s a lot of trips to the seaside. That’s the dream; those holidays .

With six weeks off I could tackle my list of things that need doing but never quite fit in between long working hours and a hectic social diary.

If you have a work-life balance and don’t arrive at every weekend panting and exhausted, do please email me your secret.

We could monetise that. Everyone I know is always running but never getting anywhere.

Collectively, after years of conditioning during our education, we need a break. It’s like CBT. Our bodies know we should stop. They’re primed for a holiday.

Six weeks. You could attack the art installation of bills, bank statements and brown envelopes that’s stuffed into a drawer. Read a book.

Deliver that bag of clothes to the charity shop. Watch that film you’ve been meaning to see. Tidy the garden. Visit an art gallery.

Repaint the bathroom. Catch up with that friend from university. We could get it all done. And still have plenty of time in the pub garden.

We’re rife with anxiety, stress, depression, hay fever. It’s July and people have the flu.

We are, as they say of children, over-tired. Run down. Spent. Like having a long sleep and returning to work refreshed.

We’d be more efficient after a break. It’d be good for the economy. There’d be fewer sick days.

We’d be happy. Six weeks off. It could change our lives. It could change everything.

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