Guilt trip

I’m trying not to beat myself up today. I have absolutely no reason for doing so. Just that I failed to pack myself any lunch.

A few weeks back I volunteered to sell mulled wine at the town fireworks on Saturday night. The day is actually manure day at my allotment and I’ll be spending all day barrowing loads of muck around the site. It’s very good fun but quite tiring. The sort of day that you want to go home and collapse after, not serve refreshments. However, apparently (according to Dear Heart) there was no one to do it except me.

Last night it turned out that I was supposed to be coordinating the mulled wine (as in deciding recipes, quantity, purchasing etc) as well as serving. It’s not that I’m not capable of doing it. It’s just that with Nanowrimo time it a little tight as present.

So last night I was trying to calculate costings for mulled wine while making chilli so that I could devote the rest of my evening to nanowrimo. I just didn’t get around to making any lunch and couldn’t summon up any enthusiasm for doing so when I remembered just before bed.

So I bought lunch today. It’s not the end of the world.