I think the closest word is ‘nervous’. I mean, I’ve felt this way before at the top of the year, overwhelmed with the feeling of being precarious: unsteady, uncertain of the future. Wobbly.
It’s probably because work starts again tomorrow. In a way, this is New Year’s Eve, the night before the return to normality. Only instead of counting down from ten, I’m waiting for the bath to be ready. Instead of fireworks and chiming bells, the air is cold and silent. Tomorrow, when all the standing orders and direct debits go out, when I peel through my emails and slowly remember what I put off two weeks ago - that’s when the rubber meets the road.
I think it will be alright. It usually is. Hopefully it will be an easier day, the kind of day when everyone important is checking their emails instead of pinging me on Slack. Hopefully January will be hassle free on the budget too - and we make it through the next few long weeks without that troublesome text we sometimes get about going into our overdraft.
The bath’s ready. Deep breath. I’m going in.
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