The day before the day we leave

The day before yesterday belongs to my previous life - commissioning, editing, proofing, liaising, cajoling, stressing, joshing and bantering. Great when you're in the thick of it, less so when you're pulled under by it and unable to give enough time to mix it all to perfection.

Weekdays
Weekdays meant: home time and a swift drink (downed in one) and a long moan (downed with a few more). Suddenly, I am aware the passion for my job is snuffing out the passion for my family life. Tired and beat, I decide to end the affair. I need to take a break, take time out and take off.

So, here I am at 48 and about to embark upon a 'break' with my husband - heading for Portugal without stress, without three teen girls (a little nervous about this bit) but, most bizarrely, without a job.

Tomorrow is the new bit, the 'taking time out' bit and the bit that, quite frankly, makes me smile every time I think about it.

BRB as the three girls would say  . . .