Well, the much looked forward to week of annual leave is over and I’m about to return to work having achieved none of the goals that I’d set. On the very first day that I had completely to myself, I woke up feeling dizzy and nauseous with a bout of BPPV. It completely incapacitated me for three days. I vomited, wobbled and resorted to a walking stick to get from one room to another. My usual BPPV exercise took the edge off the symptoms, but they still niggled constantly on the edge of my waking hours with the result that my last few days were taken up with me plodding through the routine household chores on go-slow mode.
It wasn’t until I had been back at work for ten minutes that the feelings fell away, and I was catapulted into the fast-paced arena of deadlines, questions and demands. WTF! This was the not first time this has happened either. There seems to be a pattern forming, where I feel poorly when I’m on holiday, only to feel properly well once I’m back at work. So, despite recent daydreams of retiring, musings with P over a bottle of wine, and chats to friends about their retirement plans, I’m beginning to wonder if I’m destined to work until I drop dead on the job because retirement would see me swiftly decline into old age and ill-health before my time.