It’s A New Day After All

Today is a new day and I survived yesterday – when it was 44 degrees Celsius (111.2 Fahrenheit).  Yep, I know, totally unnecessary hey.  At the end of the work day when I dragged my worn out and withered body through the front door my only thought was shoot me now.

Next I did was any self-respecting Aussie sheila would have done, flicked on the air conditioning.  Then I did the Aussie bloke thing and drank (apologies to the blokes who don’t drink but hey this is my story).

So, I drank and drank and drank, except like the wanna-be Aussie I am,  I drank water. If there is a next time (heaven forbid) it will be wine because to have felt more wretched would have meant I had passed my use-by date. As it was I couldn’t haven’t felt more tragic so after three glasses of wine I could pass (I’m a cheap night out) and then I won’t have to shoot myself and make the MOTH sad, maybe.

Obviously I survived and it’s a brand new day, Lovelies.  Yes, after a good night’s sleep and a big lie in this morning I am feeling like me again which is good news because whoever that wreck was yesterday she was not me.  It was like when you look in the mirror and don’t see the wrinkles or notice the bits that have turned south.  The mirage you see is a fresh filly in her mid-twenties who actually had an identity, once – before the man, the mortgage and the kids  Then that flirty filly primps that bang and swings her hip like the fabulously fun and funny thing you once were and maybe still are.

C’mon now, y’all know you do.

Today it’s 17 C and raining and we’re in Winter woollies enjoying a day at home instead of heading away in the NinkyNonk (our caravan which is very little):  we’ll leave tomorrow when it is not as wet, hopefully.  So I spent the day dealing with multiple mountains of muddle, which all belonged to me.  Starting was the hardest part but it didn’t take as long as it looked like it should have, does that makes sense even.  Anyway, now everything is shipshape, in streamlined stacks which is different to mountains or muddle and I have to tell you it feels good.

On the left hand side of the desk is the journal stack with reference books, thesaurus and dictionary on the right.  Pencils and pens to the left alongside the blank lined writing pad, all waiting for sheer brilliance to flow and let you know how I spent the first day of this year and what special word I’ll be carrying close through 2016.


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