No news is, err… good news?

When I go on holiday I stop reading and watching the news, not because of some kind of odd ritual or anything. It’s just that I forget about it. I forget what’s going on out there in the rest of the world. I am on holiday, everything that is part of my monday to friday routine goes out the window. It’s nice to have a reprieve from the rest of the world. I no longer sigh and ponder the state of humanity when the Tories are clearly trying to destroy the NHS or people are being slaughtered by their governments. I have my isolated little bubble to live in for a week where I forget about everyone elses worlds and focus on my own.

My world is putting on CDs I haven’t listened to in years and remembering why I like them or memories linked to them. I actually have time to cook, bake bread, and not feel I’m under pressure to cook dinner as quickly as possible. I can go and have lunch in a restaurant and not feel like I have to wolf my food down, like if I nip out for a pub lunch at work. There are days I’d like to be able to spend more time doing that, if I could afford to take an extra month of the year off unpaid I would do so without even blinking.  I don’t mind coming back to work, it’s just that being on holiday has made me appreciate things far more. Maybe it’s because it alters my perception of time altering or maybe it’s  by product of taking time to relax? It’s time to burst the bubble, pick up a newspaper and come back into the practical world. Ah well, there’s always more bubbles to look forward to.