April Awakening: Day Twenty-Five ☁️🌫️
I’m going back to work tomorrow after a nice week-and-a-half off. “Back to reality” as some might say. I actually heard this verbatim as I was checking out of my inn on Sunday. “Are you checking out?” the clerk had said. “Yeah,” said the man, voice full of despondence, “Back to reality we go.” Part of me kind of wanted to butt in and say, “Hey man, all of it’s reality, including your vacation!” But it wasn’t actually my place to say that. No one cares. No one need be bogged down by my philosophical nonsense. I only spoke when they looked at my cat in the carrier, to which I mused how miserable she is in it, and that we’d be home soon after a measly five-hour drive.
But my point still stands. Is your vacation really a “break” from reality? That must mean your reality is a terrible place to be if you only have fun when you’re away from it. Isn’t all of this reality? Does a vacation mean you’re magically another person? I’m having trouble coming to terms with that. All a vacation means to me is a break from routine, not reality. Every moment I live is reality, no matter how surreal it all may be at the moment. Tomorrow I’m just going back to the thing that allows me to take these breaks. That’s just the reality of it at this moment in time.
This time off of work simply gave me a taste of what my life could be like should I work for myself. Just days of writing, going places, and going places to write. I lived a reality all on my own, and now I just have to live another one until the day I can take more time off. Or when it becomes my actuality. Whichever comes first.