Ahhh...back to the grind. There's nothing better for killing post-holiday joy than going back to work. At least my office is 5 feet away from a full carafe of Starbucks Caffe Verona. At home I am 5 feet away from 5 feet of dirty laundry. We were only gone 4 days, but do you want to know a dirty secret? In the interest of saving time, I brought dirty laundry with me to Whistler and washed it at the house we rented. So we had clean clothes for our trip. But now we have none. I'm wearing the oh-so-comfy-but-none-too-pretty laundry-day undies and a blouse from which I ripped the tags this morning.
I want a nap. Instead I must fill my high-efficiency washer with a pitchfork and OxyClean and stand over a hot dryer folding and folding to infinity and beyond. If it were really highly efficient it would do all this for me while I napped. The hot laundry makes me even sleepier. As I snuggle the downy softness of freshly tumbled t-shirts I barely resist burrowing into the hot pile yet to be folded and hibernating...at least until dinnertime. I am craving piles of warm things: creamy, steamy mashed potatoes and yorkshires filled with thick, rich gravy, and hot freshly baked buttered bread. Mmmmm. If I could lay on the bed of soft bread and pull mounds of fluffy warm potatoes over me and put a fat yorkshire under my head I would be happy. See how I crave carbs when I am tired? They are both comforting and comfortable. I am seriously a carbivore. Make no wonder I look like a potato.