Recurrent Reflection

Throughout of my first month of working full time, I done my level best to keep work and non-work separate. As soon as my foot is out of the hospital doors, a mental metal gate slams shut on work-related thoughts.

Alas, the gate's a little leaky.

Which tests do Mr A need? O, I mustn't forget to do this, and that. Ah, the meeting at 1230. Can Ms B go to rehab tomorrow? Such things circulate like a regurgitant toilet in the cistern of my head: while watching TV, over dinner, showering, driving, even in slumber (yes, I dream about work).

It's frustrating. To function optimally during the day, I actually need time off to be, well, time off. Perhaps I need to immerse myself in more extra-curricular activities which are actually physically and mentally taxing (so watching the cricket's out huh?). Or perhaps it's just a matter of time and experience.

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My thoughts go out to those who've lost friends, family, homes, and livelihoods in Victoria's worst natural disaster. And heartfelt thanks to the valiant firefighters, police, doctors, and volunteers trying to hold it all together.