To lunch, perchance to dream

Today was one of those grey-hair days, when you swear you’ve grown one or two of those white little guys due to the sheer chaos of it all. From one thing to the next, my little brain ran out of neurons to juggle with. Thank goodness the Bakestress is back from her two days away. I came home to this.

1pm rolled around and I sped out of the office, Rich Tea Biscuit in hand. The Bakestress and I are singing a concert for charity in a week and a half, and had a lunchtime rehearsal with our pianist Wendy at St Hilda’s College.

To be honest, there wasn’t much lunching involved. Wendy bravely banged out some Aaron Copland and I sang through the biscuit crumbs before hopping onto Barb and racing back to the office. I arrived with 5 minutes to spare before clocking back in. A WIN!

Lunch breaks always carry so much potential, but rarely do I feel they are actually productive or fully enjoyable. Grey hair or no hair, today broke the mold. Here’s to tomorrow – can she do it again?!

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