Maybe it’s not so black and white?


Sitting heating up after a night in the soup kitchen. It wasn’t as busy as I’ve seen it but a few sad stories to deal with.
Today was a lovely day with lots of wee bits and pieces. Waking up to the wee lady at my forms just peeking at me is quite simply the best way to start your day. We had a lazy breakfast and pottered over papers and toast. Lunch with the folks and my oldest nephew and I could have been rolled out the door.
Has the chance to catch up with a very special pal who is never afraid to tell it how it is and as we walked along the beach (beautiful blustery day) we blethered about work, wee people and my terrible habit of seeing pretty much everything in black and white. I suppose that’s how to make things easy for me to be honest. No 50 shades of grey here. On reflection I suppose I do see some things in different shades but mostly on my own terms.
Coffee and resisting the cakes and a wee look at what the working week was bringing. I am horrific for planning and knowing what is going on. I suppose when you have childcare and things to plan round work, twilight training and a parents night. Find another working parent who doesn’t go through the same.
I consider my neck wound in. A tiny bit.

Nae points as I had the old comfy open work shoes on- perfect for sand..


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