In so many ways every week, I’m constantly reminded that I am my parent’s daughter through and through. From my hilarious Dad I’ve been infused with a thirst for knowledge, a love of cooking and the joy of making those around me laugh. Mum gifted me with music skills, a love of making lists and above all else, the appreciation of having a Fay-Day.
My mum, Fay, gives herself absolute permission each week to take a timeout from the world with no agenda, other than to relax and enjoy life with no obstacles or hesitation. Usually, this can be nothing more simpler than treating herself to lunch at her favourite cafe while enjoying a book, people watching or sometimes, a crazy combination of both!
No matter where I am in the world, I always promise myself a Fay-Day once a week. A Fay-Day for me isn’t an entire day, but rather a time period, where one day a week I give myself permission to do whatever makes me happy and to enjoy the company of Amnesty, and Amnesty alone. It can range from reading a book on a blanket in the shade after hiding the ironing pile with a big note on it saying “Do Not Touch until Post Fay-Day” to having a manicure and heading down to my local bookshop to grab an extra hot skinny latte while gingerly turning the pages of the latest addition of National Geographic as my aqua blue and pink nails dry. 
I also tend to schedule (yes, it’s a weekly ‘appointment’) my Fay-Day on a weekday. I’m blessed enough that I don’t have regular 9-5 hours and can manipulate my so-called ‘work week’ around my moods, life and responsibilities. Weekdays, when the world hides in their cubicles, means that the streets are chilled, the stores less busy and the mega armchairs at my bookshop are always free. A lot of my mates are only free from Friday night to Sunday night so Fay-Days during the week leave me plenty of time to hang with my mates too, and once again avoid my ironing pile!
The hardest thing for people trying to establish their own Fay-Day is the guilt of side-stepping the demands of their world to be entirely selfish for a few hours. To be blunt, stop thinking you’re so damn indispensable. The world is so far surviving without Mother Teresa, so what makes you so important? Take a break, have a Kit-Kat, yadda yadda yadda. Recharge your own batteries before you give someone else a jump start.
Have a Happy Fay-Day.
Pondering where I hid my ironing…..
Amnesty
Sorry no time to chat – I’ve got ironing to hide and a book to retrieve for my very own Fay-Day – what a brilliant scheme!