Crikey. Just when I was feeling super smug about managing to post every almost every day, work has gone and dumped a huge, shiny, massive project on my desk and taken up all my time.
It’s amazing how little it takes to undo the (fantasy) image I have been contentedly carting around for the last week.
Old me;
“I just find that making my own ratatouille/miso soup/spelt muffins is just so much more satisfying”
“Sorry I missed your call, I’d just been out for a run (smug, smug, smuggedy smug)”
And disgustingly self-satisfied;
“You know, I find that sometimes one glass of wine is just as enjoyable as a bottle”
I’m not joking. Gwyneth Paltrow? Nothing on me.
Fast forward a week. Gone is the glow of the domestic goddess. In its place, the frizzy haired, make up free, slightly mad eyed girl I really am.
I don't know why people go away to the middle of nowhere to find themselves. You're never going to discover the real you on a yoga retreat sipping miso soup.
The real you is the woman that's left standing after a 70 hour week sustained on instant coffee and nutritionally barren snacks.
It might not be pretty, but it's true.
Welcome back loon lady. Welcome back
{Picture from and by Hyperbole and a Half}
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