Poking My Head Out Of The Growlery

Yesterday was the first day of my 100 Days I have missed. There was a VAT return to finalise, and that was a great deal of emotional work. The government system kept coming up with reasons to prevent me from paying. I'd tried six times to pay, the last two with screen shot to prove I was actually trying to pay, but their system was at fault. And behold, on the seventh try I was allowed to pay the VAT!

From there, the day became sorer and sorer. My wrists started screaming out in pain. I was too sore, even with drugs to even think about writing. 

This morning, I learned a new word, 'growlery'. It is a safe place to retreat to when all you want to do is snap and growl at the world. It felt so appropriate as this morning it's not just my wrists, but my ankles as well that are screaming.

My plan for today had been to make gluten-free scones with fresh cream and strawberries. The Offspring was consulted, and they replied they would not want to make scones.

However, the Beloved, oh this beautiful man, stepped up and made scones, whipped cream, and fresh strawberries. He also managed to slide in a pot of Earl Grey with lemon.

Such utter bliss!