The Reporter and The Girl is having herself a busy little Christmas, but seems to be muddling through somehow. Adding to her holiday stress this year is an international trip that’s requiring her to obtain documentation from an uncaring government bureaucracy. Travelling has become a compulsory burden of the holidays, and while I won’t be leaving the country, I am waking at a cruelly early hour this Thursday and won’t arrive at my destination for another twenty hours. I will enjoy my time in that wonderful land of abundant sun and warm sand, but I can’t help feeling anxious about the journey.
Fortunately, I’ve been following much of the good advice The Girl offers for navigating this season. Most of the niggling tasks have already been completed, my first several days are refreshingly free from any plans or committments, and while I hope to take advantage of an ideal time to write extensively, I refuse to set any goals or deadlines regarding quality or quantity (no word counts, my friends). Yes it’s going to be work, but this effort is going to be enjoyable. Because that’s what the holidays are supposed to be about, right? Joy to the world, and all that.
Almost at the end of the work day. Most everyone’s gone on vacation already; I feel like Robert Neville. Two more days of showing up at the office, then the adventure begins.