A good night's sleep makes a world of difference. What a nifty little aphorism! My mouth still hurts like hell but I made some jelly to eat for breakfast, so at least it will get some sweet, port-wine-flavoured relief.
Also, the phoenix rising out of the ashes of the crazy, tense, yet ultimately tedious work situation is this: a slightly butchered op-ed in The Age. I preferred my own header - 'What we have here is a failure to communicate' - but I am not bitching, no siree. At least now I can say I've been published in student papers, small press and the mainstream media, as if that arbitrary, probably-only-exists-in-my-own-head holy trinity will somehow set me on the path to a half-way credible journalistic career.
Anyway, we're planning a big birthiversary bash for Seb and Gillian tonight, involving gallery-opening wine, sushi, and karaoke, so I might raise a glass of champagne and then down several more. After all, jelly beats porridge any day.
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Or maybe this is the start of an IN-credible journalistic career! Think big, Jess, think big.
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