The clock ticked into Friday ten minutes ago, and you find me almost giddy with the prospect of not returning to work until Tuesday next week. A long weekend away.
Don’t get me wrong - I love the project I’m working on at the moment, but it’s been all-consuming for months now - renting out space in my head twenty four hours a day. I go to bed turning over challenges and problems, and wake up in the morning with a head full of new ideas.
I just need a break.
We didn’t have a summer holiday this year, which hasn’t helped. Our last trip away was a few days in Hay-on-Wye in the spring (a wonderful village filled with bookshops). Not going on holiday has of course resulted in me struggling to use any holidays up.
I’ll have much of tomorrow to myself - watch out for a blog post over a pub breakfast in the morning. We make our escape on Saturday morning - we’ve hired a small cottage in Wells near Glastonbury for the weekend. A quiet bolt-hole from a busy world for a couple of days.
I’ll pack my bag tomorrow - nothing special - just warm jumpers, jeans, shirts, a wash bag, and a few books to read.
If the weather is horrible we’ll hole ourselves up in pubs and cafes. If it’s nice we’ll perhaps go for walks. We’re consciously not planning anything though - it’s all about escaping and slowing down for a bit. No chores. No errands. No asks. No washing up. No picking up or tidying up after others.
I know nothing about Wells, beyond the map that appeared when picking the cottage. I booked it through AirBnB. I had to join their website to book it - I was surprised they wanted my passport. I guess it’s all good though - stops idiots trashing houses.
I’ve never quite understood people that have such a chip on their shoulder about sharing their identity online. I always suspect they much have something to hide - either that or they believe the ridiculous right wing idiocy that a certain demographic surround themselves with online. Fear, uncertainty, doubt, and lies pedalled as truth to the most gullible and vulnerable.
I wonder if AI could be employed to fact-check the slop that has ruined the social networks, rather than help generate it? A “TRON” of sorts.
I’ve always thought the name TRON was quite humorous. I’m guessing most people don’t know where the name TRON came from… it means “trace on” - a command that told basic language interpreters to output the line numbers that were being executed. Another bit of useless pub-quiz trivia for you.
Anyway.
It’s getting late.
It will surprise nobody to learn I’m the last person up once again.