Dear Tuesday

Let's make a deal. I will make my way through you without complaining about how tired and fed up I am, and in return you will let me spend the evening making perfumes. Nothing will happen to prevent this, because I will be a good girl and work hard and be efficient and smile when required. You will not throw any more bad news at me. I will not get home and decide I'm too tired to do anything except mope on the sofa. I have IDEAS! and you and I will work together to see them actually happen. I have Hellraiser and Ginger Snaps and anime and Hobbit perfumes in my head and I want to actually spend the night in the kitchen making them. I don't want to do a ton of housework. I don't want to have to go to Tesco. I don't want even want to write, mostly because I already did a fair bit of writing this morning that I'm happy with. I want to turn the kitchen into an alchemy den and make stuff smell pretty.

I don't think I'm being unreasonable. I've done a fairly remarkable job of being efficient, pleasant, and on the ball at work since Dad passed away, and at home I've managed not to be a complete wreck too most of the time. I think I've earned this. In short, I want to spend the evening enjoying myself. So please try not to throw anything nasty or difficult at me. No incorrect invoices. No missing patient files. No annoying phone calls. No trauma. No drama. We can do this, Tuesday.

Sincerely,
Me