Back To The Salt Mines

Today is my brother Stuart’s birthday.
It’s also the last day of the carefree life of luxurious indolence that I’ve been living for the past two months.
(By “carefree life of luxurious indolence” I mean to say “stomach-churningly panic-inducing period of financial uncertainty.”)
Yes, tomorrow morning I once more join the ranks of the gainfully employed. Well, “employed” at any rate. Not sure about the “gainfully” part.
Despite all of my complaints, this is actually a good thing, but it is going to be hard to get back into the grind.
It also means that I can afford to give Christmas presents without having to do too much cringing about all the money I’m spending that I should instead be saving to pay bills and buy groceries.
So, even though the job is less than ideal, and it’s going to be hard to get used to not having all of my days free to do whatever I want to with (just because I didn’t do anything with my days doesn’t mean that I didn’t like the idea that I could do whatever I wanted), I guess that, grudgingly, I’m pleased that I’ve reached the end of the tunnel.
I just wish that I’d reached my actual destination.