It’s a moment much anticipated. As I wake at 3.30am on a Monday morning, those golden seconds seem light years away. The week stretches ahead like a pair of my oldest, baggiest, non-elasticated pants.

As I’m caught up with mum duties, work duties, house duties and all the other duties that rule my life, I momentarily forget about that special moment that will soon be mine.

But then I remember, hugging the anticipation of it close, a gleeful smile spreading slowly across my face.

Thursday arrives and I’m on my knees. Exhaustion has grabbed me by the insides and I plaster a smile upon my face as I watch my newly toddling child making full use of the novelty of her legs, causing havoc at our afternoon music class.

I thrust supper at my family and put my daughter to bed, before hauling myself to the computer to meet various pending deadlines.

Fingers sore from tapping the keyboard, bladder bursting from the huge quantities of tea and water I’ve consumed to keep me going, I look at the clock and sigh.

The memory of those cherished golden seconds comes back to me. Not long now.

And here I am. Just a few hours away from those delicious seconds.

The moment my lips wrap around that cold glass of wine on a Friday night. Bliss.

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