Last week I had an old friend come to visit, in all of 3 years, none of my friends have come to visit me in Portugal (doesnt say much for me huh) until now. She came out for a week's holiday with her little boy who is the same age as my youngest and whom I have never met. I have known this friend since my school days, some 17 years ago, (god, that makes me sound old) and it is the best kind of friend. The kind who you dont speak to regularly, maybe only a few times a year, sometimes more often, other times not, someone who you dont see for years but when you see them again it is like nothing has changed and it was yesterday that you saw them. A friend who doesnt judge or pressurise and seems to understand.
We had a lovely week, aside from the difficulties of three children, not used to being together or being in another's home for so long or having someone in their home for an extended period, brings. Probably some more time to have 'adult conversations' would have been nice but it was good none the less.
But now she has gone, and I am left here alone again (not for much longer, the end is in sight) and it has brought me down and I just want to crawl under my duvet until it all goes away, but it wont go away as it is in me. For a week, I had a kind of 'holiday' from the worries and it gave a welcome distraction, but now I have come crashing back to earth and it doesnt feel good. I must get my 'game head' on and push forward but somehow it seems so difficult to pick myself up.
Tomorrow is the weekend, the weather is good, I will be fine in a couple of days. Just need to find that positive.