The air I breath

Everything is relative, I know that now beyond a shadow of a doubt. One person's nightmare is another person's dream, while someone else's worst fear is my joy. In my quest to enjoy life more and to slow down this year, I made a resolve to shorten the length of my business trips. I spent January testing this out. My conclusion is that it leaves me a bit worse for wear as I struggle to fit too much into too little of a space. I have hardly come up for air this month, I have been so busy at work. I am seeing two girlfriends tonight for a cheap and cheerful dinner and if I am honest it's the first social interaction I have had since NYE (save a quick sushi session with another mate a couple of weeks back). My perspective on luxury and necessity has become incredibly skewed as I spend more nights in hotels during the month then I spend at home. When I am back in London, some mornings I shake my head in disbelief that the newspaper hasn't been hung on my front door and that when I get home from work my flat is in the messy state it was when I left. HELLLO! I would like a new towel please and can someone at least dust for me? Fact. In London dust accumulates no matter how much or how little you are actually in your flat.

And so it was that fell into bed last night after the longest week I can remember and a dreadful flight back from the Middle East. CB was dancing and singing and generally being far too chipper in my opinion, so I attempted to end the hyper spurt by asking for "inside voices." He quickly reminded me that he hadn't done his teeth and gone to bed at 8:30 since he was a child. Fair enough I thought and realised that in my little world, it felt like it was as late as could be. That's the trouble with perceptions though, they are all relative.