Wine: Less whine more wine

Count your blessings when life's stresses get overwhelming.

Oh that's such a cruisy job - wanna swap?" is something I hear regularly when I meet someone new and they find out what I do for a living.

They must think it's all just wine tasting day in day out, making a telly show and going to the occasional flash party.

They don't see the screaming weekly deadlines, the soul-sucking sitting around in airports, the horror of realising you'd booked your crew to fly economy and they're going to arrive in Queenstown two hours late, if at all.

The GST and PAYE, the dubious semi-rural internet connections, the website that is months out of date (meaning my "social media platforms are operating at less than optimal levels") and the constant strain of trying to maintain some semblance of normality at home (when I am home) for my children and long-suffering husband. The cooking, the housework, the pressure of producing vaguely nutritious lunchboxes each day and the ferrying of kids to and from sport/dancing/drama and after-school tuition ("because your child needs more problem-solving strategies for their line of attack in terms of the maths curriculum").

They don't see the supermarket shopping, the state of my skirting boards, the keeping on top of school notices and the "your child wants to do waterpolo so can you sign here, pay $100 and also be a parent-helper" forms.

The begging babysitters at short notice, the "knock on every door down your street to ask for money because our school needs some new tambourines" fundraisers, the numerous presents for the kids' friends birthday parties, the doctor's appointments, the cat vaccinations, the gardening, the banking and insurance and bills, bills, bills. "Then you really should get a nanny/cleaner/PA ... because your life would be SO much easier if you did," is what they tend to say if I ever do get the chance to vent my spleen about how staggeringly crap it is being middle class. Are these people on peyote? I really love my job, but it can sometimes be a bit of a financial stretch just to keep my eight-week hair appointments let alone pay someone to scrub the shower, swing past school to collect the kids or sort out my spreadsheets. Sheesh!

Actually, now that I've taken a few moments to think about it, those last few paragraphs are little more than a petulant, post-Christmas rant from a woman who should know better.

She should, in fact, calm down, take a deep breath and get over herself. Because life is good when you are loved.

Always be thankful for what you have.

Learn to say "no" more often because money isn't everything and suck it up, Yvonne. It's pride not money stopping you from getting help with the cleaning.

Stop complaining, spend less on your hair and more on your sanity and the world will be a better place.

Cheers! I'll drink to that.