Writing

A holiday that isn’t a holiday.

A week off work used to be relaxing by the side of a pool, reading a book and sipping a cocktail. Not this year and most likely not to happen for quite sometime.

This week is all about paying for building regulations, organising a BBQ, working out if our new house actually has cavity wall insulation (whatever that is). So far the week has included a trip to the safari park, cooking a chocolate cake with the help of a toddler for her daddy’s birthday and a long walk around a lovely local park. 

It’s only Wednesday. Oh and every day included the cooking/cleaning normal stuff that has to be done everyday.

Far from the holidays I used to remember.

“Stay-cations” are on trend apparently. Personally I’d rather be sipping a cocktail and reading a book on that sun lounger but that would require a lottery win at the moment (and a week of childcare!).

Tomorrow is “my holiday”. Other half is off golfing and Ruby is at nursery so I have a whole day to myself! I’ve booked a haircut but the whole day is mine. No housework will be done and I don’t have to cook for anyone apart from myself! I can’t remember the last time I had a day like this. Is it pathetic I’m stupidly excited for tomorrow? 

I’m a person who loves being on their own to read or write so tomorrow will be the day to do exactly that, and have nice hair for a change! 

Happy  holiday day to me! 

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