My stress is pretty low right now, for me, at least. But that doesn’t mean it’s non-existent. During the school year I operate at a sort of baseline-level of “could use a holiday”, and never take one, of course. This year is a little more intense in that I’m simultaneously working on PhD and grant applications, coordinating reference letters and transcripts and all sorts of things that make me go on mental vacations on a regular basis.
I asked myself this morning where I would go right now if I had the choice. The UK is always an easy pick for me, and I’ve got visions of travelling to a non-drought-ridden LA, but these are not what I settled on. Geneva came to mind as a supervisor I had last year sent me some photos of his holiday there. I’ve never been there myself, but I found I was looking through photos online today.
Perhaps it’s all my time spent reading Mary Shelley’s works, since she conceived of Frankenstein by Lake Geneva back in 1816. The novel certainly hits all the right notes for my holiday mood, despite all the unlawful science and murder. Scenic lake, mountains, forests. And a dash of city thrown in. I’m fully saturated on the seaside right now, having spent most of the last three years in the Maritimes with daily views of the ocean. Don’t get me wrong, take me away for long enough and I’ll be fully depleted and need to stare off at the sea for a good long while before I feel better. But right now the tank is full, so to speak.
Have any of you been to Geneva? Is it as lovely as I imagine? Thinking about it reminds me that I’ve been meaning to work on my French. Learning all the grammar in elementary school has served me very well but there’s a point when I no longer need to know how to ask where a pencil sharpener is, and need to ask if a dish is vegetarian, or where to buy Advil, because I inevitably forget it every time I travel. Oh well. That’s what duolingo is for…and google translate. Ugh, I better get some better resources.