Description

I was 35. I was single. I was totally screwed up and stressed out. My hair was falling out. Why was I working every hour the devil sends? What was the money for? What was life for? I decided to give it up and go to South America with my bicycle. “You'll be back in three months,” said my therapist. “You need me.” “I can't come with you,” said my old cycling friend Simon. “Zeneca Pharmaceuticals don’t approve of career breaks.” “You’ll lurve Australia, “ said George the office Australian. “Don’t forget to take a packet of condoms, “ said Brendan, a concert-going friend. “I’ll be lucky to need them,” I thought. Anne s