meanwhile, back in Tuvalu

Oh!
Six o'clock feels like midnight!
Dozens of emails awaited me at the office.
I was hungry at strange times.
They (the IT people) gave me a new computer - and I am struggling to adjust to all of it.
There is NO good cappuccino in Tuvalu, and though one can search, absolutely NO cornettos. Fish smells fishy here and has not been gently poached and boned by Paola's adorable husband and no one is playing Hotel California on the piano and violin next door (imagine?).
I say it all the time: re-entry is mighty. And usually involves lots of laundry.

The weather has turned and I'm not used to putting on a sweater to leave the house.
Yesterday marked one year since I went to work.
One year.
Sometimes it feels like five years and sometimes it feels like a month. But, yesterday, my first day in the office after an amazing vacation, people were excited to see me and wanted to hear about my trip and were anxious to ask me about it.
In one year my life has changed so much, and I still love it.

It was an awful lot of email though.

Comments

RW said…
You have been at work one year.
How is that possible?

I am glad you are still loving it.
Anonymous said…
Well, happy "workiversary"!
Paola
Anonymous said…
A year--congratulations! I hope you take to your new computer more quickly than Mr. D's taking to his new phone.
Loretta said…
Yes, there is a point in time when you find yourself at work and realize that you have completely adjusted to it. Though, of course, this feeling may be fleeting!
Poppy B. said…
Welcome home!
Anonymous said…
That year went quick! So glad you're still loving it.

ErinH
alice c said…
A year? A year? It is only yesterday that we were discussing what you would wear when you started.

And email...I want somebody to tell me how to cope with email overload.
dan renzi said…
Strangely-timed hunger and wonky body clocks...I was wide awake at 4 AM today, nothing to do.

Although I must say, it is best to clean right before you leave...the only thing worse than coming home to dirty floors is coming home to an unmade bed.