For the past 3 - 4 weeks I have been working ridiculously long hours that I can't even think straight anymore.
As in 12:00 midnight, 1am, 2am. Seriously.
The other morning my boss phoned and gave me yet ANOTHER deadline for 1 October and I almost lost it.
I was so upset, that I could feel the anxiety squeezing my heart.
That night I had a scary realisation: If I died that night and Peter asks me at the Gates of Heaven if I died happy, my honest answer would be no.
I haven't spoken to my brother or his wife in ages to hear the latest news about my nephew. (my Squishy is in hospital for a week with pneumonia)
I have hardly spoken to or seen my friends.
I haven't watched/stalked/listened to One Direction (see, this is getting serious)
I am currently have 29 days worth of work and only 6 days in which to do it. I cannot work past 2am. and even after 3 weeks, I think that has to stop as well.
Last weekend, my parents and I went for lunch at a beautiful place called Blandford Manor. Beautiful old Manor house with a restaurant/pub who's tables surround a calm lake complete with 4 geese and 2 goslings.
It was a gorgeous Spring day sitting in the sun relaxing and snapping away with my camera. In summer this place is sure to be gorgeous.
Mom took a turn with the camera and after making me pose like a model, is convinced she can be a photographer!
We had lots of laughs posing and taking fun photos. The sun thought it was doing me a favour and kept creeping into my photos. (I wanted sun flare last time, not now!!)
Sunburnt, tired, but happy. It really is about the small things in life sometimes isnt it?
