So that leaves me 8 years until what's supposedly the best age for a woman. I'm not sure about that. I've been looking pretty knackered lately, especially since I decided to colour my hair dark brown, which turned out a pretty damn dark brown so that I now look even paler and more miserable in the mornings than before. Oh well, it'll grow out eventually in the next half year or so.

Now then, Christmas has passed, the New Year's nearly a month old, I've completed my 32nd year. What's to come? It can only go upwards from here. December must have been the most miserable month I've ever had. Neverending colds and flus, depression, hated my job, stressed out over everything. Sleepless nights....writer's block.

Christmas in Barcelona was a life-saver. The best decision we ever took.

My birthday was a complete success, too. DC took me on a surprise trip to Paris, including a visit to Samuel Beckett's tomb, now that was the icing on the topping!
But then...fate struck again in the form of a slipped disk and the result is me being signed off  sick for two weeks. The fact that I am almost glad about not having to go to work, despite the pain and the gradual addiction to pain killers speaks for itself. What kind of a life do you lead when you're scared of the job that earns your living?

There'll be change though, I am sure of that. We've took a decision 'll keep for myself for now, but it's going to happen, who knows where and when, but it will. As sure as spring is coming.