I'm back to work after 14 months off with a broken arm. It's actually kinda nice. I've got an interesting floor with a variety of residents. From your quintessential sweet little old ladies to other types who throw things at you when they get mad. I'll be back full time after Christmas.

During the first week, I had to write myself a note to remind myself to report for duty. I'd start to plan my day: coffee until 10 am, then go for a swim, then lunch, then walk the dog, then......oh crap! I have to go to work!?!?!

I'm not nearly so generous with my time, now that darn work is taking such a chunk out of my life. This week I get home at noon. Ahhhhhh. Time to relax. But then a huge of pile of dishes hits me in the eye. And a big pile of newspapers beg to be put in recycling. And my underwear drawer is depleted of underwear. How am I going to cram in all this labour?
My coffee pot is calling, as well as utube and these local rag newspapers expect me to flip through them from cover to cover.

I think I'm going to inform my boss that I'll have to rethink this return to work.