I have finished what is hopefully only 7 appalling days of professional and personal grief. I really can't take another week like the one just been, though I'm surprised at myself and my coping ability. You don't really know how strong you are until you have no choice but to be strong.
To end my week, I had a post work drink with my work buddy Melanie at my fav restaurant and bar. My drink of choice was Hendricks with cucumber and black pepper, and my drink time snack was a duck liver parfait with onion jam. My problem is this - I've only just started drinking gin, and I never put two and two together that gin is called mothers ruin for a reason. It makes you weepy? I had no idea.
I rang my best friend and wailed down the phone "I've been drinking gin and I'm sad!"
"Hmmm," she said "It will do that..."
When I got home, still feeling terribly flat, I walked in to our living room and tripped on a potato. Yes, a potato on my beautiful Turkish rug. I have no idea what my husband does when I'm not here, and frankly I'm scared to find out if it involves potatoes in my living room.
The gin sads were promptly overtaken by teeth gritting frustration, and just like that I was back to me.
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