I'll tell you what she does, she takes it, runs with it, and happily suspends reality for an extra week. Bliss.
Unfortunately the downside of all that blissful reality-suspension is that after two days back at the coal face, I'm a touch knackered and desperate to shut whoever invented the concept of work in a sound proof cupboard and throw away the key.
I've had a beautiful break and managed to be one of the jammy few who managed to fluke stunning weather for most of my time off (please don't hate me).
I caught up with some very dear friends who were out from the UK,(their nine year old is my godson and I have no idea why he calls me Princess Bonkers). My godson's mother is from NZ, and her family have holidayed in Arrowtown all her life. But after over fifteen years living in the UK she has decided that New Zealand is like the afterlife.
'Ya what?' Says I.
'It's like the afterlife!' Says she.
'Do I look like a ghost?'
'No, but if you want to go for a swim, we drive to Lake Hayes, we get a park and we go for a swim. It's stunning, it's clean.'
I feel she has vaguely got a point. Not that I shall superglue myself to that point, otherwise people may think I'm a bit of a mental(and you lot in the cheap seats can keep your traps shut). However I now feel it is my duty to phone NZ Tourism and suggest a new slogan for their 2012 NZ marketing campaign.
New Zealand - it's like the afterlife.