I'm sure bunking off at this time of the year is a cardinal sin, but, yesterday, we took off for a day in Dublin. And somehow today, back at work, everything feels much better, less stressful, less frantic.
In Dublin's fair city
Where girls are so pretty
It was really weird to be in a country where folk, ostensibly, speak the same language and yet not understand a word they were saying. Ordering food and drink was hilarious but we managed.
Today, I spent some time reflecting on the language of love, coming to a partial recognition that, in this community, folk express love using a language that's different from the one I am familiar with. Does that make it any less valid? I think not but I need to listen more carefully to the different dialects and not expect everyone to speak my language.