I’ve been exiled for a week in a smallish city in the south of Spain. It’s sunny and my room has a view of the sea. As much as I needed to work, I just had to take an evening for myself and actually shut down my laptop before 9 pm. First time in 4 months?
I’m trying to remind myself that life is not as bad as it seems right now.
It would be much easier if my husband was here with me. But he had to work back home. I saw him only 14 hours ago, but knowing I won’t be seeing him for another 96 hours makes me all queasy.
There’s a blond haired baby in the table next to me. My uterus screams at me that everything will be better if we make tons of babies. It sounds like some sort of hormone based scam, but I’m so buying it.
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