Welcome Back, Imagination

Holiday time is upon all the physicists, and you can really tell. Scan down my list of physics contacts and you would find that each name sports a tag line:

Only Two Left!! Fighting!!
2 down 1 to go
C will die
Finished my formal report!

And then, there are those tag lines that come after the last of the deadlines are met. We are like wild animals captured and then set loose, blinking at the sunshine as we hesitate on the thresholds of our cages:

wow, what to do now, we have free time for the first time in ages
Look at the sky!

We have all been so brutally overworked that now that we have even a few minutes of free time we have no idea what to do with ourselves. I have been working pretty much solidly for the last week to meet all requirements to such an intensity that I do not eat and I do not sleep. This is the case for me, and I do not doubt for a second that I form a completely representative indication of the rest on my course. Of course, there are some people who do not take stress too well.

"Oh my goodness!" I manage, coming down the stairs, simultaneously wilting and chuckling, "worst day of my life ever!"

"Why?" demands Steve sharply.

"Only just finished my final C project. It was crazy!"

"Well, I've been working two days solid on my essay," he retorts.

I give up. It is not worth pointing out to him I've been working at least three times as long, even missing meals, while he says this to me having just finished dinner tucked away watching South Park. Some people, eh? Never mind him though, I am now on holiday. To misquote my mother's recent misquotation, the only people who truly appreciate laziness are the hardest workers. And I can say this to you with the fullest understanding: maaaaaan, it is good to be lazy!

My time will once again be devoted to the things I love. I will juggle, I will dance, I will laugh and write and play my piano. I will start to notice the small things in life again, like the way being clean after getting out of the shower feels so good, or the shape of the clouds, or the way the last sip of a hot cup of tea made from a limescaly kettle is decidedly crunchy.