So I did something today that I rarely do: I went home for lunch. The drive is about 25 minutes each way. I get one hour for lunch...so that leaves about ten minutes to eat.
I had two somewhat stupid reasons for doing it -- bread and my cell phone. I left my cell phone on the charger at home. Not that big of a deal but without it you think, what if there's an emergency, what if I miss someone's text. So *sigh* I went home and got it (one person had texted me, but they had also e-mailed me, so what was the point of that?). Second reason, there was some delicious bread my mom had bought that I had wanted to pack in my lunch but didn't. And at 11 a.m. bread started to sound really, really good.
I was speeding slightly on the way home, lucky to avoid a wreck in a construction zone, which I would have seen as a punishment for this frivolous trip.
Twenty or so minutes past that I was finally home. Work is a hotbed of stress. Home is a light-filled quiet oasis of tranquility. The dog didn't even notice I was home until I went upstairs, then she offered her usual greeting and hung around as I warmed up beef stew. The bread did indeed taste good soaked in the stew. What I really wanted to do after lunch was go upstairs and take a nap.
But I didn't even have time to eat my orange before I left again. I did some more speeding down the highway, listening to Fresh Air and hoping I wouldn't be late, and I wasn't. I walked back into work at 12:30 on the dot.