Always a risk when you cancel a party.
I’ve chilled a few bottles and put some cabanossi on stand-by … just in case. I’ll also refrain from putting on my pjs before 10pm.
(Many moons ago, I opened the front door in my pjs to the woman who should be our PM, Tanya Pilbersek, and her lovely husband Michael Coutts Trotter. They were standing on my doorstep expecting a dinner party. I was eating leftovers and watching tellie. I can’t quite remember which couple got the date wrong … Eek … awkward.)
But I’m really hoping for a quiet night. The kids and I are cooking a dinner party for each other – I’m on entree, the eldest is on main and the youngest is whipping up dessert.
I must have had a premonition that February 14 wasn’t my date for romance or parties.
It seems it’s not just February 10 that’s jinxed for me, but mid-February generally. The funny thing is, it’s not getting me down. I’m tired but not beaten.
I wrote a blog last February about regenerating, wondering how I’d transform post-separation. I seem to have become … more centred, friendly and positive.
I’ve always been the glass-half-full type but my resilience in times of crisis is a thing of great beauty.
I’m not railing and shaking my fist at fate, my ex or the universe. OK, I may have woken in a bit of a panic before dawn the last few mornings, but as the days progress my mood rises like the sun.
My life is full of love, wonderful experiences and great people.
The other stuff is just an annoying, buzzy mosquito that I need to slap.
Song of the day: Paul Rodgers “All Right Now”