And its not just to distract you from the oodles of misery that have been around here recently.
But do please read on.
I’m not sure that I am a woman’s woman.
I’d like to be but I worry that a decade of testosterone poisoning in an investment bank may have had some untoward consequences.
And last night I had to sit through the sort of dinner I really dislike, the sort of dinner I have to do because its what the firm thinks is a Good Idea – I sat for hours, missing the girls bedtime, so I could cling to the edges of conversation around shooting, country estates, sports I don’t care about (I’m ok on the sports I do care about… trust me I’ve had time to learn how to do sports talk these last few years) and those ever so inevitable little digs at The Wife and the home thing and so on that I sit there trying not to scream through.
But that was yesterday and this is today.
Today I escaped from work for a bit of female bonding and its been great. Like women do, we talked and bonded and realised that, despite having 4 very different sets of experiences, we had lots of common ground. It was gentle, it wasn’t difficult or stressy, it was chummy and fun.
Oh and not only did we (eventually) see some tennis, but we also got to enjoy Rafa Nadal’s incredibly nice bottom (I swear the rainy, cold day got a couple of degrees hotter when he walked onto the court!)
Enjoy that pic!
p.s. that isn’t my picture, I couldn’t get the phone to take one that showed how close we were and how nice it was (and it wasn’t raining… sadly)