Today, Friday the 13th, was my last day at work until January 2. I haven’t been away for more than a week at a time in five years, since I started my job in August 2001.
It’s a terribly odd feeling–not at all what I expected. I’ve transfered my projects (and boy was THAT a lot of work), introduced the freelancer covering for me to my authors, wrapped up proposals, and said my temporary goodbyes to colleagues. And yet, this Friday night, I’m still thinking of all the little things I’d like to do next week and generally fretting as though I’ll be back next week the same as ever.
Not sure if this means I’m a creature of habit, obsessive compulsive, or just in denial about the changes coming my way. Lots of folks suggested I take time off before my due date to relax, but I think I’ll be happy when this liminal time is over and I’m off to my next all-consuming venture.