This. Time. Next. Week. I'll. Be. On. A. Plane. Bound. For. Singapore.
With my husband, en route to our honeymoon.
Clawing my way towards this with such vigour am I, that I am starting to dream like an escapist.
I am completely burnt-out. I have more burn out than a veld fire the size of Nigeria that's been raging on for three weeks
I mean, this is how bad it's got, for Christ sakes. My brain is so desperate to leave my work behind right now, my sub-conscious is doing it while I sleep. I am having some incredible dreams at the moment. Dreams straight out of a luxury travel brochure. A new destination every night.
The night before last, I dreamt I was trekking across the polar caps. Night before that, I was sunning myself on the Grecian seaboard.
Last night, I dreamt I was in Australia having a whale of a time.
Not fucking likely, surely. I even remember thinking - in the dream - "I really need to phone Dove. And tell her that Australia is actually amazing, and all my pre-conceived ideas are totally wrong. This place is fucking great." As I swung between trees on some jungle tour.
Jeez. Jungles you say? In Australia?
Sigh. Anyway. My dreams over the last week have been about me running away to a foreign place escaping my world as it is now.
So while I'm still here - until next week when we fly off and celebrate the first two months of marriage - yippeeee - I'll just escape through the medium of champagne. Or papsak. Whatever's going.
Happy Fridays! And happy summer solstice Northern Hemispherics. Boozy escapism in daylight hours until 10:30pm tonight, not such a bad thought is it?