After-school club

Christmas and new year was a bit bumpy. Cold and grey and gloomy. L and I both found out that fresh starts can be false. Ouch. As for J? The poor man was crushed.

Over a few too many beers not so long ago - beer is the balm for broken hearts, surely? - we decided we needed a plan. A Plan, even. Rather than whimpering and licking wounds, it was time to do. To do what? Something. New year, new you and you and you.

Well, maybe.

L, being a practical, level-headed type, already had an idea in mind. She sketched it out.

First, we drink more beer. No arguments there from either J or I. To drink more beer, we need to go out more. Obvious, really. To go out more, we need a reason to be out.

(I'd always thought going out purely for being out was good enough, but hey ...)

And L had the reason sorted too. An after-school club. For adults. Three adults specifically. The three sitting around a table in an out-of-the-way bar. The trio who spent a little too much time at work, thinking that work was a good way to dull the nagging ache of bruised hearts.

She pulled out sheets of paper (she's a producer through and through, this one. Everything planned, mapped out, timetabled. Impressive and then some). She'd signed us all up for drawing classes. She had sussed out extra yoga for me, more salsa for herself. She'd also scouted out some cookery courses, and there were drumming classes as well, if we were interested.

We were. We are. We're cracking on with it. Fingers crossed it works.