It happened something like, that moment when you realise you’re over-caffeinated and your head is pounding – but you’re not sure if it’s the coffee you’re guzzling or the deadline you’re sweating that’s making your heart beat in your temples.
So you keep slurping.
You’ve been at it since 6am. It’s now the afternoon and you’re still in your pjs. Your legs are hairy and your hair is dirty. You’re pretty sure you smell.
There’s a knock at the door.
It’s the postman. He jokes with you about finding you in your pjs, again. Your response laugh is borderline-delirious. He hands you two packages.
One is the new mint green fountain pen you bought yourself to celebrate recent courage and wonders.
The other is a surprise parcel from a magical friend.
Inside is a portrait of you, with a handwritten note telling you you’re the tallest poppy. You promptly sit on the floor in your kitchen and blub with gratitude.
Then you get up, and get back to your desk, clad in the armor of being believed in, being grateful, and being loved.
I hope you’re having an equally perfect weekend full of beautiful madness.