Yesterday was a row of paperbacks bookended with fire-breathing dragons. I woke at five and a version of daylight filled the room. I lay and thought for a while. The absolute freedom of the holiday week was over. I could no longer drift through the day. Appointments, schedules and peculiar tasks have to be completed. Difficult relationships maintained. The daylight wasn’t going to allow me to go back to sleep. And in getting up, reading a volume of the poetry in the bath, some form of freedom, holiday spirit lingered despite apparent restrictions.
The trick is to not think too much.