Work, beach, work

Obviously work-beach-work is much better than work-work, but still not as good as work-beach-beach-beach. Once again I struggled myself up the hill on Sunday afternoon, dreaming of the days when beach time is all the time. Will I get sick of it? Will I get bored in retirement? Will I think with fondness of Monday mornings? NO I WILL NOT. I will think about those long dull drives back to Canberra and not miss them at all. It's always much longer going to Canberra than it is going to the beach.... Although on Sunday I did have the first time ever of a train crossing! There is one point where you cross the train tracks, and there has never been a train on it in the hundreds of times I've driven that route, until yesterday. Such excitement.

I needed a weekend at the beach to lick my wounds after a truly dreadful job interview on Friday. It was for an internal promotion, and I did far and away the worst interview of my entire life; froze, blanked and just couldn't recover. So hideous, and in front of my current bosses, so super embarrassing. I spent the weekend alternately squirming with horror flashbacks and being so angry and cross with myself. Everyone I have spoken to has tanked one interview in their lives, so I know I'm not alone, but boy did I need a bit of quiet time by the seaside to recover.



Saturday was hot so I went in for the first swim of the season and the water was ICY. I had a wetsuit on, and stayed in for the best part of an hour, so it can't have been that cold I suppose, but the first dip was a shock. There was a big swell though, and I caught a few waves. So very very lovely to be in the ocean again. I'm going to be very busy with work this summer (even in my so-not-promoted role, hah) so I don't know how much time I'll get at the beach, but it will still be there for the summer after. And after that. Until retirement....