I work a lot of hours. A LOT of hours. But before you produce a tiny violin, this is mostly my own fault. Like many self-employed people there’s a part of my brain which constantly asks me what more I could be doing on my jobs, what more I could be learning to develop myself. I also have ‘perfectionist tendencies’; a man who knows more about brains than I do told me so, and who am I to question him?
Anyhoo, months of very long days have left me feeling as I imagine a 106 year old might feel. One who doesn’t put their long life down to a daily tot of whisky (although alcohol is an oft-mentioned elixir of life amongst those aged 100+). I digress…
I’m knackered, a bit de-motivated and ultra-self critical at the moment so it’s time for a rest, and where better than in the Cretan sunshine. An unexpected but welcome upgrade means seven days of 5*, adults-only, all-inclusive relaxation. There was wine and fruit in the room on arrival. There’s a spa. All-inclusive extends to champagne cocktails. Someone has just knocked on the door bearing sweets. This is all important stuff.
Before I got here I had a fanciful notion that this could be a kind of writing retreat (I sound like a knob, but bear with me). I have blogs that need writing, articles and books that have sat unread for months, etc etc. Based on today’s evidence (up for not even ten hours so far and asleep for at least five of those) it’s not going to happen. Well not during the first half of the holiday at any rate. For now, the only reading I’m planning on doing is the cocktail list.