Three things you cannot recover in life: the moment after it’s wasted, the word after it’s said and the time after its wasted.
I started writing today’s post at 7am as I sat on the train into London. It is 9pm now. I have written and re-written this single page almost 10 times.
I left the dinner table early to write. I took my laptop into the bathroom and tried to write instead of playing with my son at bath time. I was impatient with my daughter as I tried to write and help her with her maths homework simultaneously and when it came time to read with her before she went to bed, I slammed my laptop shut and huffed my way into her room, making my displeasure apparent.
She looked up at me and said, “poor mum. You must be so frustrated. You’ve been working so hard,” and she hugged me.
It’s not always alcohol that makes me miss the point entirely.