of the Summer of Yes.
After a positive start, the "I shall say yes to every invite that comes my way" policy has stalled at the red light of indifference.
I seem to have lost my mojo down the back of the couch and am too tired/too over it/too afflicted by can't be arsedness to attend one more Christmas party. Being a contractor registered with almost every agency in town = a lot of invites. But this year I find myself saying no to almost all of them.
I would much rather be at home with my two favourite boys. Especially on a day like today when, after a period of glorious sunshine, a riot of nasty weather has been cavorting over Wellington. Thankfully it's one of my two working from home days, so I'm snugly tucked inside with a copious supply of tea, the soothing tones of Pachelbel's Canon and 583 words of a freelance article. My diary tells me I have a meeting this afternoon with a PR woman who wants to pitch some stories but I am sorely tempted to put that off until I feel like engaging with the world. Becoming a hermit does have a certain appeal...
This is what my back garden looked like a few minutes ago. Am hoping the Hound will take one look at the furious precipitation and declare he doesn't need a walk today.
.JPG)
After a positive start, the "I shall say yes to every invite that comes my way" policy has stalled at the red light of indifference.
I seem to have lost my mojo down the back of the couch and am too tired/too over it/too afflicted by can't be arsedness to attend one more Christmas party. Being a contractor registered with almost every agency in town = a lot of invites. But this year I find myself saying no to almost all of them.
I would much rather be at home with my two favourite boys. Especially on a day like today when, after a period of glorious sunshine, a riot of nasty weather has been cavorting over Wellington. Thankfully it's one of my two working from home days, so I'm snugly tucked inside with a copious supply of tea, the soothing tones of Pachelbel's Canon and 583 words of a freelance article. My diary tells me I have a meeting this afternoon with a PR woman who wants to pitch some stories but I am sorely tempted to put that off until I feel like engaging with the world. Becoming a hermit does have a certain appeal...
This is what my back garden looked like a few minutes ago. Am hoping the Hound will take one look at the furious precipitation and declare he doesn't need a walk today.
.JPG)
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