I wasn’t sure how the meeting would go. It was important and potentially far-reaching.

It was, in short, tricky. And I was a power player in it. I had to have my game on. Perform.

After abluting myself in the early morn and getting my thoughts together, I turned to my wardrobe.  I am someone who does a better job if she’s looks the part.

I didn’t want to wear my ‘mom’ uniform of a tank top, sweat pants and tennis shoes. (That really is me depicted up in that header.)

But I didn’t want to be too formal either. I opted for a pair of blue culottes and a blue top.

But then I got to my feet.

Memorial papers.

Those programs you receive when you attend a funeral.

What do you do with them?

If you're like me, you take them home.

Unsure of what to do.

You're not sure how to deal with them respectfully.

And you might want to look at them again, anyway.

Clients usually came together as a couple and always with a 45-minute appointment. Counselors were in short supply and our waiting list, long. Payment was made by way of a pay-as-much-as-you-can donation.

So as an alternative, we decided to open a drop-in clinic for people to come in, quite likely alone, for a short counseling session.

We weren’t sure how this would be received. Would we be sitting twiddling our thumbs for two hours or would we be overrun with people desperate to talk to someone?

Adding an element of the unknown was quite a departure for us.

We advertised the dates, stated our hours and held the first two-hour session in a downtown strip mall (we call them a parade of shops in England) in a low-income area.

And waited to see if anyone would turn up.

The response was immediate, 1,000's of views.

Facebook shares currently stand at 99.

Dean over at Being Primal sparked an idea when he commented, "You could probably commit a whole website to people who have to go this alone."

So I did.

And now we have...(drumroll, please!)

PaleoNonPaleo - Living paleo in a non-paleo world!

You’ve lost a few pounds and are working on cooking from scratch.

But as you study your latest new recipe, your spouse comes in.

He walks to towards you with a smile on his face and you can tell he’s about to announce something big.

He holds up his catch, triumphant, a grin splitting his face in two.

Cock of the walk.

And he plonks his haul on the countertop.

You look at it, your heart sinks and you wonder how to burst his bubble gently.

Over the week, I blasted through my to-do list. I had completed all the physical, moving around activities by Thursday lunchtime.

I was faced with only sit-down administrative work.

And I just didn’t want to do it.

All week, I’d wanted to move. Slowly but steadily. Nothing rushed or strenuous. Just steady, gentle motion.

Accomplishing this, managing that.

I didn’t work to exhaustion like I often do. No need to take breaks, as in, ‘Phew, I need a sit down.’

Her four-day mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no woman has gone before…”

It’s true. I did. It was weird. It was bizarre.

I lived in a parallel universe from those around me for over four days.

No clocks, no cars, no computers, no caffeine.

Instead, candles and cats and…calefaction. (That’s a posh word for ‘heat’ I looked up in a thesaurus. An online thesaurus.)

I’m writing this three days after my technology-free existence came to an end and I doubt I’ve absorbed many of the lessons yet.

They will reveal themselves to me over time but while I wait...

That's 108 hours or 6,480 minutes.

It's even 388,800 seconds.

But I hope I'm not going to be counting.

I haven't been home alone for more than a few hours for, ooooh pinch me, 11 years?

Not since I was pregnant while my husband was away on a business trip and I had to take my 32-weeks-with-twins pregnant self to the hospital and park in the tiniest parking space you ever saw.

(I got a round of applause from three bystanding men.)

I took a look at my 2011 goals for this blog.

I consider myself a goal achiever.

Heck, I used to be in sales, closely monitoring my monthly actuals against targets, balancing incoming orders against my quarterly goals.

I would chat up my accounts, sweet talk the sales order entry clerk, all the while finessing the system so I earned all my commission, bonus prizes and any vacation that was up for grabs.

But you know what?

I missed most of my goals for this blog in 2011.