Me, me, and more me. Then, just when you think you’ve had enough, here comes more about me. Blogging is often a narcissistic endeavour to be sure. Sometimes it seems that it’s a giant verbal selfie (the fact that I even know this word makes me cringe) that says “look at me!” over and over again. I don’t know much but I do know when it’s time to take a break from the festival de moi. Plus, loftier rationales aside, my life is pretty boring these days. Although, World Cup madness and mayhem is about to descend upon my home at which time I will likely be announcing my next book, Hooligan Husband: One Woman’s Story of Survival.

I should be writing about this beautiful city (now one of my favourite places in the world), posting inspiring photos and all that jazz. The trouble is I’m too busy looking at it with my eyes to stop and capture it on my iPhone. I could entertain endlessly with stories about my job and colleagues, however, I’ve become unexpectedly attached to paycheques and health benefits, so that’s out. Add in my profound laziness and you’re left with stories about my husband’s 80/20 split of awesomeness/stuff that drives me ’round the friggin’ pipe.

At any rate, I’m taking a short time away from blogging to shift my attention to things that are less self-absorbed: discovering a way to grow my hair out so I look less like a repressed old bag circa 1982; finding a spring coat that actually fits a giraffe; researching California wineries to visit on my vacation; working on my cellulite reduction strategy, you know, deep crap like that.

How much time these selfless, high-minded pursuits will require remains to be seen. You’ll survive without me for a short while, all 14 of you. Maybe you could form a support group to cope with the loss. Or maybe one of you could sell up and run off to Greece or Spain for a year, humiliate yourself repeatedly, tell the world about it, and we could all focus on that for a while. Someone should really do it, it’s not hard. I suggest a lottery win and a personal staff (interpreter, chef, chauffeur, immigration counsel) if you really want to make the most of it. I’d offer up Neil only he’s too busy golfing to do anything else at the moment.

Alors, I say adieu until we meet again. In the meantime keep up the search for joy wherever you may be. I promise if anything earth-shattering happens, say, I make another banana bread, or Neil goes on strike, you’ll be the first to know.

 

 

 

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