I find it amazing how quickly one falls back into routine after being away. One day, I'm sitting on a beach in +35 deg C weather, attempting to relax, with no more worries than what to have for supper that evening - squid, fish or praws - and the next thing you know, I'm sitting in my office at work, staring at the chaos on my desk of draft manuscripts, journal articles, random bits of paper with scribbled bits of data that I will never, ever begin to understand what they were supposed to mean, coffee cups that were not empty when I left and therefore are harboring their own colony of new lifeforms, and wondering how it can be so cold inside a building. From +35 deg C one day to -25 deg C the next. It's a bit of a shock to the system, but it does amaze me at how quickly the transition happens. Aside from jet lag, a large pile of laundry, the beginnings of the post-trip sinus infection and a very nice tan, there is no transition - it's as if February ceased to exist, a dream, and I'm picking up where I left off on January 21st. I'm not sure this is a good thing.
Being back at work, I find I'm not overly eager to delve back into the social side of things - coffee breaks or lunch in the cafeteria. I'm not certain I am as of yet ready to be asked the question "how was the trip?" and be probed for information. I suspect part of this is my chosen new method of dealing with my work versus personal world - the less information shared, the better. The gossip mill here is rampant; a number of times in the last year I've had information said in confidence to someone come back to me via another source. My attempt at positive thinking also requires protecting myself from such garbage.
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