I've been having a difficult week. Either I've developed a slowly fatal illness as a result of my formerly at least non-life threatening admin allergy, or I'm just getting old. And tired. Very tired. It didn't help that one of my meet-ees woke me up with a text at 2:30am, cancelling Tuesday morning's meeting, and that I had to resort to watching Columbo to try to get me off to sleep again after that. But it's something more than that. It also might be that I'm developing a strong aversion to tales of Tuscany from all and sundry (including my own sister) and how wonderful their trip there was. (Invariably involving a wedding, but someone else's so they get the best of both worlds of going somewhere nice, but getting some free food and drink while you're there.) I, too, want to lounge in the sun (or realistically, under the shade of a tree) and swim in a beautifully located outdoor pool. I, too, want to dine alfresco and look upon delightful scenery and soak up the unique atmosphere of a balmy Tuscan evening. But it ain't gonna happen.
Instead, as the 'total loser consolation prize', I got the following:
1) Sunshine coming through my window and projecting pretty patterns of shadows on my floor to temporarily distract me from the horrendously disorganised array of things that was once my (reasonably) tidy and inviting room:
and 2) a red gerbera flower from a meet-ee who is now posing serious competition to my boyfriend (who has so far in all the time we've been together only managed three, non-red, roses) which came as a really stunningly kind and wonderful surprise this morning:
and that's about it. Not quite worthy of an, "I'll be a son of a gun!" Columbo exclamation, but it's better than nothing, isn't it?
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