I pride myself on my punctuality. It's something I learnt form my Gramps. 
 
He's been gone 7 years this week and i'm still "scared" of being late. With Gramps, if you were on time, you were late. You should always be early. We do not keep people waiting. The funny thing is, he was almost late for his own funeral. I remember waiting for him on the day thinking 'He's not going to like this one bit'. But if nothing else, he also had a cheeky sense of humour so maybe that was his way of making us remember the rules. 
 
The second the burial was complete the heavens opened on us and we all had to run for cover. I'm still sure that was him telling us to stop wasting time and get home and put the kettle on. Tea was very important. It could fix all situations. It was a drink for pondering, for working, for good times and bad. I still hear him shout "Put the kettle on, Girl" every morning. 
 
Anyway, I digress. Gramps would not approve. 
 
So, this blog is late. 24 hours late in fact. 
 
Yesterday, I wasn't feeling great. I was zapped. I'd spend most of the weekend in bed, I had to see my chiropractor Monday morning and I could feel myself fading. I was sickly ill. I was just done. Mentally. 
 
So, I decided to do the bear minimum and that was that. We'll call it a 'mental health day'. I didn't feel guilty, I don't regret it. 
 
Looking after myself is now my top priority. My friends, family, clients all come second if I need to rest these days. It never used to be the case. I was once a slave to people and my business. Truth was, it was literally killing me. I can't help or support anyone if I'm dead. 
 
I'd be back to haunt you all but I just can't help you if I don't look after me. 
 
Are you guilty of not looking after you? Be honest... was it worth it? Is it worth it? 
 
Probably not. 
 
Think about that today. 
Until next time, 
 
Dee x 
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