Weary bones

It happens every time, but I'm still startled by how just one day back at work after a short holiday leaves you floored with exhaustion. For some reason almost every joint in my body aches. I almost fell asleep on the train home - never a good sign. I'd even had to spend a couple of minutes sitting in the toilet at work resting my eyes.

Once again I am amazed at how, by contrast, some people have conditioned their bodies to treat work almost as an adjunct to the main business at hand, i.e. going out in the evening and in effect beginning the day all over again. Where do they find the energy? The composure? The peace of mind?

I'd say they must spend the whole weekend sleeping - except they come back into work on a Monday with tales of debauchery and decadence on a Caligula-esque scale. They could be making it all up, of course. They could be taking the piss. In which case I envy them even less.

Right now I feel like I could sleep for a week. Unfortunately that is presently not possible, and I must therefore find some way to cheat and sneak my way through to the weekend. A cup of camomile tea might be a start. Well, it worked wonders for Helen Daniels.