What a busy week in Paradise. It is already Thursday 21st February. My job is an administrator for a property company. I have to manage the staff, the books, the banking and liaise with accountants. It is quite a vibey office and there is never a dull moment. I sometimes drag my heels in the morning as I would rather be on the beach. Because our busy time is in the summer, leave is almost non-existent. One of the girls is getting married tomorrow, and the boss was very put out that she went off early on Monday and will be away for three weeks. It reminded me of a cartoon I had on my noticeboard depicting a girl in a wedding gown standing at the boss's desk, and he was saying "if I let you get married in your lunchtime, soon everybody will want to get married". You get my drift, life should not get in the way of work! SO, the escapism kicks in. We all develop our lives outside of the office hours and then the downtime in the office is not so onerous. And the other day attorneys took us on a public relations lunch at a beautiful wine farm, the day before Valentine's Day. We sat in the middle of an expansive garden, under trees as the day was exquisite, not a breath of wind nor a cloud in sight. We sat and ate a delicious light lunch and chatted to each other like long lost friends, and the time seemed to sit still with us. Even my boss unwound, and what a gal she is when in relaxed mode. The afternoon was a unexpected gift in the middle of the otherwise stressful week. Fortunately there are safety valves for pressure and in our lives we must recognise them and utilise them to store up pockets of resistance to the next challenge thrown at us. This week was one of them. It is the financial year end and the accountant and I have been very busy reconciling accounts and preparing the year end statements. When I am in the middle of the data debating, I have a little flitter back to my time sitting here blogging. What a safety valve! I have been able to empty the stress on these boards, laughing a little at some of the funnier comments and commiserating with those who are caught up in some ugly stuff. Nobody at work knows about my secret life, and how I cope at home. Well "cope" is a bit of an exaggeration, there is always a pile of ironing or washing up in this house. My mother always said housework can wait. And the bogging is my therapy. As for my topic today, my colleague and I decided to take up belly dancing. My better half thinks it's a brilliant idea. The first attempt last week was hilarious. I arrived late as I had been blogging instead of preparing supper etc. I had to jump in with the rest of the writhing bodies and keep my eye on the teacher who was amazingly lithe and how she could shimmy those tassles. We stepped gracefully to the left, wiggled the hips, did a round turn on our tip toes, bowed and swirled our scarves. And tripped, lost step and fell over whilst the music patiently persuaded us to keep going. The biggest surprise of all was how strenuous the exercises were. Gracefully pulling muscles we didn't know we had, and finding out how difficult it was to "hustle the bustle". My daughter did not want to hear any of it when I returned home. What was happening to me, she is afraid I am going through the "change of life". Probably, but not without a fight. Imagine mom belly dancing, whatever next. Well I know if I can master the art, I'll be incredibly fit and graceful at the same time. The next class was due this evening and as I left work I asked my colleague if I would see her there. She said "oh, are you going" and almost echoed the reluctance I was feeling. The working week has been draining and the thoughts of bending and stretching for an hour in the name of "art' was not appealing. The resulting excuse was "it's too hot". Ha ha, the heart is willing, but the couch beckons more. I will definitely give it another whirl next week. Live your dreams, love from Eve in "Paradise"