On Arriving Home and Contemplating a Weeks Leave

I kick my shoes into the porch corner
Then let my feet sink into the carpet.
Dropping my work bag in a forgettable corner
I hang my office pass on a door handle.
My iPod gets docked
My Phone gets switched off and placed on charge.
Finally I flop down in my favourite armchair.

I inhale.
Holding my breath
I count to ten before exhaling.
Repeating until
My erratic
Fast beating heart
Softly and silently slows to a slothful state.

Ignoring a list of urgent jobs
I contemplate a cigarette
But can’t be bothered to reach for the lighter.
My tension evaporates
As my body melts into my chair
So much to do, so I prioritise
And contentedly snooze.

 

And relax, I’m on a weeks leave but not from this site.