It hasn’t hit me yet that I’m really off work for a week, a paid vacation. I used to take it for granted that I got 4 weeks paid every year at my previous 24-year job. Of course, they tried to make me feel bad every time I would take one, or for anything else I did for that matter. Just another reason I’m glad I left.

I don’t think I’ll fully realize it until in the morning dark and early when I’m heading north towards The City Different. There’s something about traveling that makes me feel alive. If time and money weren’t issues, I would definitely pursue this path more often.

We often dream of having a house in Santa Fe. Of course, the chances in reality are about the same as winning the Lottery, but what would life be without dreams? Pretty boring and sad, I’d think.

I’m trying not to think about what’s coming in my job in about a month or less. More training. Less pay. Hoping the promised increase in production will make up for it. I just don’t know if I will be able to do it or if I will even like it. Mainly, I’m wondering about the money. I have to try and push these worries aside for a week. Not an easy thing for me to do.

For now, coffee, bacon, biscuits, and homemade plum jam that our neighbors gave us will have to suffice. I’ll think about the rest “tomorrow.”