It’s a grey and rainy Saturday during a global viral pandemic.
A fire in the fireplace, some fresh baked bread to chew on, a glass of craft brew cider, and a good book seem to be in order today.
I am off still until Wednesday.
I spoke briefly with my manager yesterday, he said he’s had his finger hovering over my speed dial a few times but has tried really hard to respect my leave time. I assured him that his call wasn’t poorly received, after all, I’d sent him a text first. I wanted to know what the protocols were downtown at the office if I decided I wanted to sneak in and rescue my plants and grab a few papers and things for when I am back to (tele) working next week.
I am having a struggle with myself.
On one hand I am preaching staying at home.
On the other hand, I know that the office will be a ghost town, particularly on the weekend, and that it’s been empty for almost two weeks. So it’s not a risk, and I have this stupid desire to save my plants from their own impending doom.
The book, the couch, and the fireplace are winning.
(88/365)
9 comments