Apart from a lovely Friday evening with The Shopping Sherpa doing openings and launches and drinking other people's wine; an evening in which I sold a beautiful handbound journal of handmade paper to a handsome young man who was going off to be F Scott Fitzgerald and his lovely girlfriend, Daisy (ok, he thought he was going to be Indiana Jones, but I refused to indulge that fantasy), and had a long chat with Pepe of Pepe's Papierie and told him how to run his business (too much wine), including demanding better yarn at the Craft Store, I had a crap weekend.
It's my own fault. In my family, illness = weakness and is, therefore, a character flaw. I know that is complete balls but usually I just push through anything short of a broken leg. Actually, it took me 2 days to get to the hospital after I broke my ankle. Anyway, without external pressures (no parents to care for, no work, no SnB to attend etc), I gave in to a screaming case of menstrual cramps and spent most of the weekend on the couch watching 80s comedy series and recent films on DVD and working out the TTWC Jr. pattern.
Sounds good? Well a vile period without the aid of no-name cheezles and soy chocolate icecream is not fun. Honestly - just poke me next time I get that self-indulgent. Jeez, I should have just taken the dogs for really long walks and got a decent dose of Vitamin D and maybe broken the Cook from the Cupboard Challenge. I would have been in a better frame of mind today, that's for sure.
Am now giving myself a bloody good shaking and pulling myself together.