For the first time since I started writing this blog back in February, I took a day off.

Yep. I unilaterally declared yesterday, Sunday the 15th of October, Sandra's Sedentary Sunday Siesta Day, and aside from an email to my mom, I didn't write a word ... not one, nada, zippo zilch.

And did I feel guilty about the oh-so-blatant shirking of all duties blog and book?

Well ... yeah. And of course I'll be paying for my day of brain rest for the whole week now, as I'm behind on every self-imposed schedule I've self-imposed.

So, why did I do something as foolish as give myself a break?

First, I'd met my first book deadline, and my editor was happy. This had me thinking that I had earned a breather.

More importantly, however, was the fact that Mark and I had gone out the night before and consequently I didn't get to bed until, gasp, AFTER MIDNIGHT.

Yeah ... I know ... Pretty freaking wild, huh?

And speaking of wild ... wait until you hear about the occasion that prompted all the revelry that kept us up all those hours after our bedtime.

Our big night out ... the first time we've gone anywhere at night without the kids in yonks ... was to celebrate .... wait for it ...

Fish.

Yep. A 'Celebration of Tuna' is taking place in Seychelles this week, and we'd been invited to one, just one, of the many festive fun-filled fetes to famous fish.

The biggest chunk of the Seychelles economy comes from fish, so there is, I suppose, a reason to celebrate, but the idea of paying homage does strike me as a bit stinky.

At this particular Gala de Thunnus, a buffet was offered, featuring ... you guessed it ... tuna. And if one wasn't in the mood to begin with, there was one huge-momma-of-a-dead-tuna gracing a table at the entrance. Now, if that doesn't just get the salivary glands a-pumpin'.

Actually, not. Not mine, anyway. It strikes me as being rather like having a whole dead cow ... hide, horns and all ... slowly rigor-mortising away next to the Weber on a BBQ Saturday. Yuck, yuck and double disgusting.

Thankfully, there was some nice cheese and acceptable salad stuff, so I easily avoided the curried tuna, tuna bake, tuna pasta, tuna steak and all the other tuna dishes that had me stealing glances at the poor dead thing at the door.

The company was pleasant enough, and with Grandma baby sitting we had no worries. We chatted with friends, listened to the band, I danced once or twice with a couple of other women whose husbands apparently think like mine (He claims he got married so he'd never have to dance again.), and had a reasonably pleasant evening.

Unfortunately, a reasonably pleasant evening now kicks my butt, so the following day I was tired, grumpy and not at all inclined to sit at my computer for hours while urging my brain to function creatively and my fingers to dance around my keyboard.

And that is the reason there were no posts from me on Sunday, the 15th of October 2006. Thankfully, the Fest-a-fish is over for this year, and with no other glam events like that on the horizon I can count on being in bed by 8:30, as usual, for the foreseeable future.