As a parent of school-age kids – much like when you were a student yourself – your family’s annual calendar naturally revolves around the school terms.
Term 2 of 2018 is at an end. And, having considered things carefully, I’d say that this term has been one of the most difficult that I can remember.
First “real” exams, illness, work stress, dark mornings, Eisteddfods, sad news, my effing knee: it’s all added up to a tough 10 weeks.
And yesterday was a very crappy day.
But… But… It looks like we made it.
As I switched off my early morning alarm for the next four weeks, and with just one more day in lab to go before a break of three weeks, I couldn’t help but feel just a little victorious.
There are changes on the horizon, but right now, all I have to do is get through two more meetings and put my bit of the lab to bed, and then I get to go home. And there are still quite a few jobs to do around the house before our flight in [checks] about 32 hours, but there’s time to do them. Suddenly, that first drink in the airport lounge – the traditional moment at which we feel that we can truly relax – seems closer than ever.
(Because it actually is, obviously.)
The weather looks absolutely amazing in France for the foreseeable future, flights, trains and hotels are booked and checked into. Luggage is (sort of) packed. The housesitters are primed and ready for action. There is a bone ready to distract the beagle from the moment of our actual departure. Spotify is ready to go.
I’m feeling positive. The next three weeks are going to be great.