Holidays are what keep you clinging to the idea there is some sort of point to the work–retire–die cycle we have convinced ourselves is life. They are moments of freedom and purpose. In adulthood, you fall into a pattern of going through the daily grind of work desperately looking forward to the next break you have booked, hoping beyond hope that it will offset the misery of having to be somewhere every day that is slowly draining the life out of you.
