It has been a long week. A few life dramas and enough work to drown under. I’m getting to crunch time now. Four more months before a group of official people types decide whether I get the big D. R. in front of my name. Judgement is upon me.
Sometimes when you are out there, climbing your ladder to the stars, you get run over by the odd out-of control, hurtling-through-space, fire-tailed comet. You are flung through the cosmic abyss in your little sparkly space suit, running low on oxygen, reaching desperately for a passing planet ring, but coming up with moon-dust. You feel as though you are getting sucked into a giant black hole; you’re done for.
But then, you spot a rocket ship in the distance, shooting toward you. And sitting in the drivers seats are your best girlfriends. One is waving frantically, while the other presses the turbo-boost button and accelerates towards you. Another is carefully preparing an anti-gravity cup of hot tea. As they sidle up to you, a large metal claw cranks from an opening at the side of the ship and grabs you by your moon boot, yanking you toward the door. You read the ship name. BFF Rescue Rocket.
Once safely inside, you are greeted by smiling faces and cuddles. ‘Oh hey there, we heard you got into a spot of bother, thought we’d come rescue your ass!’ And you smile. Because you know that you will do it all again next week. You will put on your sparkly space suit and you will get out your ladder and climb toward the stars. And on those few days when you miss your step, or are knocked off your perch by a careering fire-tailed comet. You have a whole crew on the ground ready to fire the jets.
Please see the below link my BFF sent me today. It will remind you how wonderful real friends can be.
The 10 Best Things About Your Best Friend
Much love to my ground crew XX
