One of my 2014 Not-Resolutions is to have a "Dry Month." Given the workout my liver has gotten since the Momster passed away, I figured I'd start my dry-stretch after the Writers Festival ended. Which is how, three days into this crackpot adventure, I find myself searching for alternative means of decompression after my First Official Shitty Work Day of 2014.
Fortunately, I'm a resourceful girl:
A snuggly blanket, some LED candles, a book, a jigsaw puzzle, and some chamomile tea. Also, some mopey music. And not pictured: my persistent, dogged belief that things can and will be better tomorrow.
Also, I'll be one day closer to the end of Dry Month.
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