I hate Sundays at the moment. I wake up thinking about Monday coming, and bringing with it one of my least favourite things. Work. Mondays are a slog, work is a slog and everything on Sunday just points to the fact that Monday is coming. I am working hard to make work work (what a sentence) but it feels like I am a long way from clarity, from where I want to be and from not hating Sundays anymore.
Saturday on the other hand, was fabulous. I was living my own version of Sex and the City right here in Thornbury. I shopped, drank coffee, met up with friends, entertained and felt generally fabulous and fantastic. If only every day could be a Saturday.