...relaxing in a hammock on the balcony of a palatial hotel, somewhere semi-tropical (southern Italy would do), under a shady tree (guess this would have to be in a pot), sipping pink gin and tonic, one foot draped lazily over the edge so I can rock myself backwards and forwards, reading a dreadfully trashy magazine and feeling no guilt about it not being a book on the Tudors, in between nail and facial appointments, preparing for a long nap.
The bliss of having nothing to do and nowhere to be is a luxury that seems long absent, in spite of my last holiday having finished only two days ago.
At least Friday is a special day with no teaching, so after tomorrow's marathon (why did I volunteer to do an assembly?! Why is there a parents' evening already?) I can rest up a bit.
Also, the air is crisp and the nights are dark and I can sense the arrival of Christmas. And Nablopomo. Expect to be hearing a lot from me over the next four weeks.
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