Weekends come but only once a week
Monday 11 January 2002

Monday morning rolls around again. I lay in bed this morning listening to the Monday morning traffic outside our window and felt glad that we are looking for somewhere else to live. Too much truck pollution blows into our bedroom window every week day morning.

a cloud of smog or a cloud of monday

Last week was the busiest work week I have had since beginning my freelancing. By Friday afternoon I could barely stumble from computer desk to couch from which I hardly moved for the rest of the weekend.

Actually, I tell a lie. Saturday night I went out to dinner with Small and Special-K sans Tiny-Small. This is the first outing we have had without him since he was born around six months ago and it seemed so weird to be picked up by Small and to sit in the back seat of her car beside an empty baby seat. We had a fabulous time, drinking champagne, eating risotto and gelato at a favourite cosy Italian restaurant, discussing important matters and taking our time to finish only to realise we missed all the good movies we could have seen. It was nice that Small didn't have to worry if Tiny-Small needed a feed or a nappy change or any of those other baby kinds of things, but we kind of missed his cheerful little presence.

In December I thought about goals - a children's book written, illustrated and off to a publisher being the most important. So now I have become more specific - off to the publisher by mid September. That's still heaps of time, but I have a lot of work to do between now and then. Hmmm.

 

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