Dream a little dream of me

Lying here propped up by a mountain of pillows (2), I bring you the latest installment of bullshit from a berry. Catchy, maybe that will be the name of my sequel blog.

I’ve had a long week. A horrid cold has driven my nose insane, my thoughts tired and personality miserable. A few tough days at work followed by a few tough words afterwards added to the fusion of fun and laughter. At tipping point, I was ready to cry and hibernate until after the long weekend.

Despite the wonderful weather, I decided to hibernate. A stable wifi connection maintained my sanity and netflix fix. Don’t ask what I watched, because I have no recollection – I did read some Spike Milligan though, of which I do remember. The thoughts of “I wonder if any other 28 year olds read this” passed my mind – I ignored myself promptly and poured another glass of prosecco. The better question would be whether anyone of my age knows anything about Spike Milligan. Answers to that are most welcome.

Crying did not occur. Some welling up did on Friday evening on my commute home – but I fought through for my forte is not bawling in public. On a positive note, if I had succumbed I would have had plenty of tissues to mop up.

If it wasn’t for my friends, I would have been more of a mess than I already am this weekend. Tomorrow I am leaving the house to see some (friends, not action), and so I’m planning on a playlist to defoul my scowl ready for a Sunday Roast on the other side of London. It will take me half a morning to get there so I’m thinking 90’s pop. Upbeat, familiar, happy.

Aiming for the next post to reflect said music choice!

Loves xoxo




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