Stepping out of the door just past noon to get my hair cut, it felt like a wall of heat hit me, in all its energy draining weight. The key driver for the long overdue haircut is the small matter of a family wedding in Trumplandia, for which a full assortment of family will be present. There will be the obligatory late start of course, as will lengthy speeches, dances and an epic turn up.
My Enneagram 5, strictly not dancing self, already dreads the intense stimulation these family dos drag in their wake. I will have the small mercy of being the designated carer for the now fifteen month old, which should hopefully keep me out of trouble.
Wish me luck folks!
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