According to “How Stuff Works”, spacecraft re-entry is “tricky business”. I’m fairly certain that isn’t how aerospace engineers or astrophysicists would explain it. But, hey. *shrugs *

Re-entry into the work world after vacation is tricky business, too.


The object, you, launched into the freedom of space (space to breathe, to graze, to sleep, to gaze), must return to the real world.

Re-entry is sudden. Jarring even.

Gravity and drag push and pull against you, sucking you into an atmosphere charged with fabricated urgency.  Your calendar is already full. Notifications pour in. Deadlines loom large and lowering. Somehow, tasks have metastasized and spawned action items in your brief absence. The cool aura of peace that momentarily surrounded you burns away. Once briefly and tenuously calibrated, your sense of equilibrium is rocked off-center.

The ground rushes up to meet you as you hurtle, limbs flailing, earthwards. Red warning lights flashing. Alarms blaring.

You slam into terra firma.

Bounce once. Twice. Skid to a stop.

Everything goes black.

A train stalls on the tracks. The network is down. You didn’t bring lunch. The copier is jammed. But the show must go on.

You open one eye. Then the other.

The smoke clears. A voice cuts in.

“How was your break?”




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