Time Out.

It’s been hell this week. But not in an awful way. Just in a long way. In six days (I fought tooth and nail to get an extra day off after almost two years of working six days, and oh, how I now value that extra day) I worked 43 hours, 5 minutes and 13 seconds. Not much overtime, sure, but one of those days was my debut of putting together the papes ALL BY MY LONESOME. Be proud, peeps. Because I sure as hell am.

And, after 5 revisions, the shizz with the new coordinator is still wrong.

So, to celebrate (or separate) my day off:

Aussie and I had lunch. Sorry, no pics. Just a nice lunch outside, midday, watching the influx of tourons.

Aussie went to work. I met a friend and her hubtastic for beverages.

Upon returning home, I took the most fantastical hound ever for an amble.





































Then I came home, made myself an adult beverage (summah-time fave: Raspberry lemonade and vodka … also? Pretty much the only thing pink you’ll ever see in my hand),





















Curled up with guilty-pleasure reading,

Bitch has to do her research, right?















And enjoyed the warm (!!!!) evening.


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