As i sit here, in my super attractive sweatpants, 26 thermal base layers and my trusty pair of uggs, I am reminded of two things; 1. that the irony of actually having a tan but having to cover it up with a million layers is almost unspeakable, and 2. that I never learnt how to turn on the central heating so I must sit here and contemplate life whilst watching my breath appear as vapour in front of my face.
These two things alone account for majority of my post holiday blue-ness. That, and the pile of laundry that i have sitting in the middle of my floor, staring incessantly at me.
I have now moved my freezing body complete with uggs into bed. Is that wrong at 4 o'clock on a Sunday afternoon? Actually don't answer that. Let's just say that as I haven't slept for the past 24 hours due to the taking 4 babies on a plane scenario, it's ok on this occasion. As i pull my duvet up to my chin and flick the switch for my beloved electric blanket, I glance out my window. It's almost completely dark outside! Um, when did winter happen?
After speaking to a friend this afternoon, they told me that they'd read somewhere that the average recovery time for Post Holiday Blues is 8 days and 22 hours. Ahem, so if this theory is correct, and my mathematics hasn't failed me, I should be good to go, and back to my happy and cheery self next Tuesday at 2pm! Ha, watch this space.
And for those of you who see me before the blues have worn away, i apologise in advance!
Much love and loads of kisses xx
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