Last week was a make or break point for me, if I could survive through the tears and the stress and if my other half could survive with being yelled at or talked to constantly at the end of a study day, then we both could make it. Which means my dream of becoming a lawyer may actually be possible, which although it sounds obvious, was never something I believed I could do even if I wanted it really badly.
Thursday night I hit the town with the girls. I had a new dress (not a Ted Baker one - but one that still looked great and was a third of the price). I had finished an exam that was over 3 hours and despite a thunderstorm looming, a cramped and spasming hand, I bolt out the door (into a taxi that possibly could have killed me on the way to drinks). It was me against the world and I was winning. I was even singing along to the music in the taxi! NO I was not drunk at this point!!
The night was a huge success, a celebration for a friend who just got engaged and a huge relief for me that there will be no study for the summer. But what made it more successful for me was that I was a better version of myself, I had realised that you really need to savour these moments with your friends - which is why I was all for 4 cocktails in the first hour plus a few shots here and there. You need to get out there and tear it up because a week before I was sitting in this same chair, stressing, studying and wishing oh so much that I could be out there doing anything but studying. It's all relative right?
My cheeks were so sore from smiling and laughing, either at the fact that there was some sort of hideous 80s music playing or that we had to take 4 photos to get one half decent one of us. So after a few too many bottles of champagne (thanks to Stu at Cargo for those) and a few too many cocktails, we eventually headed home.
The taxi driver asked me where I was headed. Home? Nope. Certainaly not. I was en route to the local pizza/kebab shop because god knows I was going to be at work in a few short hours and a slice would help with the hangover.
I picked up my $3.50 slice of pizza and walked down the street to my place smiling, realising that it's always the small things that make you happy, but that sometimes it takes great dedication, stress and anxiety for you to appreciate those small things.
Oh pizza slice... you were my salvation on Friday morning (and just quietly so was the bacon and egg toasted turkish for breakfast).
A note to my brother: yes I know I'm not supposed to be eating pizza but come on... it was early in the morning and I really needed it. I went to the gym on Friday in my lunchbreak!!
Happy Monday everyone. Hope you are waking up to a beautiful morning wherever you are in the world.
Elle
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