Jackie Danicki

I hate holidays. They’re more trouble than they are worth, what with all the time spent worrying about what’s going on at work while also trying to relax and not seem distracted. You get all the guilt of not being at the office AND all the guilt of not being able to chill out properly. I’d rather be at work.

That is actually how I feel, 99.9 per cent of the time. It’s an awful way to be, because it smacks of arrogance (”How can things possibly work without ME there to oversee them?”) and a martyr complex (”Here I am on holiday, and all I can do is think of work! Aren’t I devoted?”), not to mention the fact that it is deeply rude to everyone around you, whether they all realise it’s going on or not. Antoine and my family - who definitely realise it - all deserve sainthood for putting up with me this week.

There was a point yesterday when I forgot completely about work. I was having lunch with Antoine, my brother John, and my dad. Antoine looked at me and smiled.

“Finally,” he said.
“What?”
“You’re relaxed.”

The next 23 hours, during which I had no internet access or connection to the office, put paid to that. But I will take what I can get, and so will they.

Highlight of yesterday: Taking Antoine to Golden Corral for a scene he’d only ever heard about from me. The gluttony parade was in full effect. That was an experience worthy of an entire post - hell, Nancy Rommelmann could write a riveting ten page article (or even a book) about the monster buffet to end all buffets: the people who work in the place, the people who eat there, the people who make money from it, and the people - like us - who go there on field trips to observe, marvel, recoil, and get our grub on. (Nancy, seriously, I bet a good editor would buy that story in a snap.)

Filed under: Life