The sea air has blown me off course – in a good way, I think. The wi-fi here is so patchy, I cannot work, so I’ve had to relax, overeat and fall asleep early. I had plans to move down here by the sea one day, but fear I’d never get out of bed in the morning.
I lunched with my dad today and on the way back, I lived up to my new nickname. The other half calls me SIPS, which stands for Self Interested Pleasure Seeker. Rather than scurry home to do the dishes, I called in at my favourite hotel, found a seat by the window, read my book and ate a warm scone that was almost as big as my hand. And yes, I slathered on so much clotted cream and raspberry jam, I should be ashamed, but I am not. This was selfish pleasure seeking to the max.
Everybody should be a SIPS. Not all the time, as children need parenting, dogs need walking and dishwashers don’t fill by themselves (if only they did!), but being a woman doesn’t mean you have to devote all your time to servitude. It’s 2018 people.
I have had no profound thoughts today. I put it down to the clotted cream clogging my arteries and slowing blood flow to my brain. All I can muster is enough enthusiasm to collapse on the sofa and watch Celebrity Big Brother. Have you seen it yet? I think it’s going to be a good series…
Rest is as important as work.