Greetings, Golden Week, oh how I have missed you…
It is cold outside on the last day of September. Perhaps it is more accurate to use the word brisk, although I don’t quite know where to draw the line these days.
It is Friday. The last day of the work week before National Holiday, a seven day vacation for the entire working body of the PRC.
This week was particularly grueling. The project my department is working on got ballooned from one department to three. Now nobody with proper knowledge has the power to make decisions, and nobody with power has the proper knowledge.
But enough about that. Big corporations are like Shakespearean tragedies without all of that good writing. Just people being dramatic and dying.
I am excited for the holiday. I will sit on a plane for fourteen hours, transfer in DC, and finally land in Boston. Then I will drive an hour north. That’s where my home is. Or at least, the place where I grew up.
It has been a year since I was last there. A lot has changed. Or maybe nothing has changed. I don’t quite know where to draw the line these days.
I am psyched to eat home cooked meals and look at the foliage. New Hampshire, here I come! Live free or die.