A Break Doesn’t Involve Your Kids
(Or me making a massive effort to write on my phone slightly drunk)
Ok this might be somewhat clickbait-y and not exactly what I mean, but it does somewhat encapsulate it.
This is a total bit of a moan though, so if you stick through it fair play.
I’m currently in the process of moving after purchasing an apartment in one of the biggest housing crises ever in Ireland (it’s crazy man, seriously) and on a six week period of leave from an extremely stressful job (I’m not even allowed to talk about the job – it’s that hardcore). In between two houses and trying to sort moving in the easiest way possible, costing the least amount of money, when you don’t drive (you really don’t need to for the most part in Dublin) and have put nearly all your money into it, is pretty difficult and awkward to negotiate as well, but again that’s another story.
I know I’m on a bit of a rant here, but in real life the job is the only thing I really mention negatively, but I do talk about the move as it’s what going on.
On numerous occasions I’ve been offered ‘breaks’ from people that I know. As much as a break would be amazing the breaks that I am getting offered are nothing other than exhausting.
This isn’t to sound ungrateful, as I’ll explain as I go on, BUT I think the reasoning…
