In which life gets more complicated...

Well I still haven't loaded those wedding photos, and have been incredibly lax (again) about updating my blog. Then this morning, while waiting in for the aga man, the gutter man and Bald Bloke, my blogging conscience gave up pricking me with a pin and got out a dirty great sledgehammer. So, on with the latest Blonde installment.....

I found out in dribs and drabs over the last 2 weeks that the department I work in is being restructured, and oops, as of 1st Oct my "role is now redundant" as are the jobs of 3 good workfriends. Apparently I get the official letter on monday, then enter a 30 day period of "consultation" where they try to find me another job. So far, all they have come up with is the old job I had before being promoted, which although having gone through several job titles was more or less what I had been doing for the past 10 years. I know I should be grateful to at least have this option, especially in these uncertain times and given that I don't have a partner with another income. BUT I'M NOT.

I'm pissed off.

At least I am today.

Yesterday I was depressed and tearful; on Wednesday I was ridiculously cheerful and telling myself "don't be such a drama queen, all will be fine, you always land on your feet"; on Tuesday I was full of self pity and internally wailing "why me?"; on Monday I was in superwoman mode frantically calling round my network and feeling empowered.....and so on.

There is a possibility of a job in another company, which actually sounds pretty perfect, but.....this is where my dilemma re what to do gets a bit more complex.

Having been let down again by another potential sperm donor, I decided to go to an open evening at a new fertility centre that has opened in Hove. After a fairly depressing presentation with lots of statistics about fertility decline (apparently 5% chance of pregnancy in each cycle for 40-42 yr age group), and a daunting price list for donor insemination, I accepted that at nearly 41 I really don't have time to wait anymore. But how will that fit in with the job situation? I can't very well turn up pregnant on my first day at a new company. But if I accept my old job back, it will involve some travelling and I'm also not sure it would fit in with my plans to work part-time. Hmmm. Not sure there's an easy answer to this one.

As another minor complication, well... not so much complication but more of a background what's going on here thing, Bald Bloke has been around quite a bit. Initially to do some work for me (the massive wooden gate he built is beautiful), but increasingly also as a friendly social thing. And I do like having an alpha male around - it makes me feel very protected. Arty Girl is suspicious about his motives, and didn't help my current "baby fever" by telling me he said he could imagine having a baby with me (he doesn't know about the donor plans). Given our history, and that he tends to be more of a talking and less of a doing anything about it bloke, I can't imagine this would EVER happen or work out, or that I even would want it to. But every so often I catch myself having a fleeting daydream, and have to give myself a good shake: Stop it Blonde! He's not a big tempting balding sperm machine. Put those hormones away.

But now back to the main dilemma. What do I do? I only have 30 days to find out all my options and make a decision.

Right now I'm thinking I'm going to trust to fate, and get myself down the clinic.

Blonde Moments Giveaway!!!

I'm feeling very smug. The lovely Mel at Country In the Town hosted a giveaway.....AND I WON!!! (I haven't worked out how to put a link in blog text, but she's listed on my favourite blogs). I'm eagerly anticipating a delivery of some lovely girly chintzy things, including a cushion made and embroidered by her own fair hands.

The gifts are themed along the same lines as her blog, which is about re-decorating her home, making crafty Cath-Kidston-inspired things, and displaying her acquisitions from car boot sales and charity shops. This got me thinking about what Blog-related items I could put in my own Blonde Moments giveaway.

Here is my list.

1. A minature bottle of Vodka (fits easily into handbag/office drawer for use in event of unexpected drama)
2. Pack of 20 Benson & Hedges Silver
3. A tin of banana flavoured Slimfast and a bottle of laxatives
4. St Johns Wort (to prevent depressive blog posts)
5. Evening Primrose Oil (see above)
6. "Men who can't love: how to recognise a committment phobic before he breaks your heart" by Steven Carter and Julia Sokol (slightly dog-eared condition)
7. Self-insemination kit and some fertility test sticks (unused)
8. A partially disembowelled bird (gift from cats)
9. A Sarah Arnett dress (acually, no....don't think I could bear to split up the collection...)
10. A big bar of 90% cocoa chocolate (health benefits cancel out calories)

If anyone would like to put their name in the hat, just leave a comment on this post.........

(P.S. news from the wedding once I've found my camera!)

Honey

I have just come across the most incredibly moving blog. I have no words. Read.....

http://honeylettingoffsteam.blogspot.com/2009/07/pema-is-born-in-pure-joy.html

Desperate measures....

Day 3 of taking diet to desperate extremes.

I've now cut out salad and vodka. That only leaves cigarettes and vitamin pills. (Sudden thought....PANIC....are they sugar-coated???).

This is how I would like to look:


Unfortunately, this is how I will actually look:

I'm thinking now that a nice discreet beige might have been a better choice of colour (may disappear when stood in front of the marquee?), or even something in a camoflage style print (stand very still and pretend to be part of a large plant arrangement?). .....

Big red tomato

I've finally made a decision on what to wear to the wedding next Friday. This is after buying at least 8 dresses and changing my mind constantly over the last few weeks. So difficult. And made more difficult because Arty Girl, Canary and friends are all tiny weeny petite size zero things, and I'm currently the size of a small bungalow. Plus, Bald Bloke will be there and I really need to live down the maxi dress nipple exposing episode.

Anyway, this is the dress. I finally got up my nerve to try it on after a week's diet consisting solely of salad, vodka and cigarettes (and copious vitamin/mineral supplements - important to be healthy) . Even so, it needed the combined efforts of AG and Canary to get the zip up, and I can barely breathe or move. God knows how I'm going to get into the taxi to get there. What I really need is one of those disabled vans that is super tall, or a pope-mobile type arrangement, then I won't need to sit down?

Next question was shoes (another probem, as I can't actually bend down to put them on). The consensus was to find some red ballet shoes, so off I went yesterday to a dancewear store in town. The woman was very polite, but I could see her thinking "what does an overweight, middle-aged woman with feet the size of plates want with ballet shoes?"

Really hoping that I won't look like a very round, very red tomato.

I'm also praying very VERY hard that the zip won't break.

Girl and Goat

Just got new camera.


Arty Girl.

One of Arty Girl's paintings.

Bloody talented friends.

The Seagull and the Canary

Had to share this - a recent Quote Book classic after a few weeks drought.....

The Canary had had her feathers ruffled. Her BF, with the complete disregard of consequences only exhibited by the male species, had suggested that her longstanding (dancer-related) hip problem might be caused by the "funny way you walk".

Canary wailed "but I walk properly, all the way THROUGH my feet, from my heel to the ball and toe. I ARTICULATE my walk. I WALK PROPERLY!"

BMFs thoughts on this?

"It's the Canary and the Seagull. The Canary articulates its walk through its feet. The Seagull walks flatfooted. You therefore compensate for your Canary nature by taking on the Seagull."

I got the following text from her when she got back home:

"Back safely and in bed. Had problems getting the leg braces off though."

Bru....NO!!!

During my long search for a potential sperm donor on a website where donors post pictures and a short biog, I have deliberated long and hard when trying to decide upon a potential biological father. After viewing hundreds of profiles, and meeting a few shortlisted potentials, I haven't yet been able to find a suitable donor: "too short", "too creepy", "looks like a paedophile", "says he has abnormal sperm", "is using site to find a girlfriend", "lives in Russia", "wants to create a master race". That kind of thing.

But I did finally come up with a final decision on the name I'd like for a boy.

"Bruno".

It's not that common, it's nice and manly, it doesn't sound too ridiculous on a 2yr old, it doesn't rule out a significant number of career options in the future (working equally well for a doctor or a builder), and I've never met anyone with this name that might give me pause for thought.

I really like it. Or so I thought.....

BMF has just shown me a clip on YouTube of Sacha Baron Cohens new character. Have a look at this link. If I wasn't so devastated, it would be very funny.....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mpjFPOKx90w

Cider and sympathy

I saw Bald Bloke last Sunday - the first time in quite a few months.

Arty Couple were relaxing in my garden and we got around to discussing my wonky garden gate. Someone tried to break in a couple of years ago but it's just one of those jobs that I put off, whinge about every so often, and then do nothing about. Though I have managed a "temporary" solution involving a wooden spoon to hold the gate together and an obstacle course along the garden path. (I suspect any burglar would probably step around this fairly niftily, but it has been a very useful early warning system when friends drop by unexpectedly and I'm sunbathing in my knickers - not a pretty sight.)

Anyway, by coincidence Bald Bloke phoned Arty couple's mobile as we were sitting and discussing the gate, and they suggested to him he might want to fix it as he's not busy at the moment (BB being a builder). The next thing I knew he had decided to drop by and take a look. Unfortunately, after a few hours in the sun I was looking decidedly cack, with hair a frizzy matted mess and my face covered in a greasy film of sweat and factor 50 water resistant sun lotion (the type that is so thick and white it gives your skin a bluish hue when applied). I also had a maxi dress on that was doing exactly that for my figure (ie making me look maxi). This look was completed when I trod on the hem on getting up to say hello, and exposed most of my right boob; white bits, nipple hair and all. Not exactly how you want to look when an Ex turns up.

So he took a look at the gate, and did a bit of builder-like prodding and shaking of broken bits and posts, then we all sat in the sun drinking cider. After a while Arty Couple left, and it got a little stilted and awkward, and I started telling BB all sorts of inconsequential and boring stuff to help fill the silence. Then I made the faux-pax of asking about his best friend, and it all started coming out. At one point his eyes were welling up, and I thought "you poor poor man". He seemed so sad and subdued. His dreams have been disillusioned, his friends are lost, and he is resigned to being alone. I just listened mostly - what can you say? At least he still has Arty Girl as a good friend.

On his way out he said "I'll give you a call in the week about that gate, R" and gave me a peck on the cheek.

Needless to say he hasn't called.

Some things at least haven't changed.

Funny Thursday

Another truly awful joke going round the IM system at work:

"Sadly the UKs only dating agency for chickens had to close today due to the recession.

They couldn't make hens meet."

Wheeeee!!! (Oh bugger)

I've just realised that I'm hurtling headlong into the murky depths of middleage at something close to the speed of light. Not too sure when I took that first foolish step off the diving board, but evidence is mounting that it may have been some time ago.

1. I obsess about and fuss over my cats far far FAR too much.
2. I last went clubbing 2 years ago.
3. I no longer WANT to go clubbing (very bad sign)
4. Last night (a Friday), BMF asked if I felt like going out. I replied "No thanks, I fancy an early night curling up with a good book".
5. I worry about getting an early night on worknights.
6. I love cooking and would far rather have friends round for dinner than go out.
7. I've always gone for the older man, but have now realised this means they would be worryingly close to collecting their bus pass.
8. When I meet new men I often think to myself "God, they are SOooo middle-aged". Then I realise they are about the same age as me and start thinking about something else very quickly.
9. Many of my friends who left getting married pretty late, have now been married for years and have several children.
10. Other friends have grown up children.
11. I refer to my team at work as "the children"
12. I enjoy listening to Classic FM and Magic radio
13. I've started enjoying gardening.
14. Shopping trips for new clothes are now more likely to end up at Cath Kidston (Glamorous Mother: "No thanks darling, I won't borrow that. It looks like something my grandmother used to wear.")

There is some hope still though.
1. I don't believe in comfortable shoes. If they're not high enough to cause a serious injury when I fall over then they're not for me.
2. ......

Nope. Thats all I can think of.

Help!!!!!!!!!

Amused or frustrated? A bit of both....

An article I just saw on the BBC News website made me smile.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/london/8143364.stm

Apparently, a study to measure levels of activity has been foiled by some creative pre-teens. They were given pedometers to measure how much walking and running they do over the period of a week. Researchers were puzzled by the very high levels of activity seen in many of the children, especially so in those that were, ahem, a little chunky. Until they realised that these "hyperactive" kids had actually been attaching the pedometers to their pet dogs (presumably walked by mum or dad).......

I've worked in research for several years, as well as having been a nurse many years ago, and am no longer surprised by what some patients will do. Part of me is secretly amused by their attempts to buck the system (a British trait I think), but it can be pretty frustrating when you're trying to get real answers to important questions! When I was working with a sleep clinic a few years ago I remember hearing a similar story

It was in a study on truck drivers to identify if they were having "micro-dozes" while driving. This is probably not that uncommon as it is a symptom of Sleep Apnoea at night, and SA patients are typically big guys with thick necks and a bit of a belly who like a beer or two. Longterm, SA can result in serious health problems, but there is the more immediate risk of unintentionally "micro-dozing" during the day and causing an accident if doing anything with machines/cars/lorries. (Does your bloke do that thing where he snores heavily then stops breathing for a bit? See a GP). They are also driving very long distances on very long, very straight motorways, for very long periods of time. Understandably, some of these guys were very worried about both losing their licences and livelihood, so attached their monitors to pets in the cab. I heard of one that used a hamster.....

Maybe these are the fathers of the kids in the activity study?

Me again...

Well I've been very lax at updating my blog. The trouble seems to be I either have nothing very interesting happening and don't want to blog along the lines of..."well I got up this morning, went to work, came home, watched a bit of telly, went to bed...". Or there is so much going on I don't have time to write and then when I do find I've forgotton half of what I've done (though that could be the vodka tonics). Plus I keep finding these amazing blogs by people with interesting lives or real problems and I wonder what I'm doing blogging at all.

So apologies if this is a bit long, rambling and mundane...ZZzzz....

Recent Blonde Moment news is from my week on holiday with Arty Couple at their relatives villa in Spain. Absolutely bloody gorgeous. I was a bit apprehensive beforehand, because though I've spent many a day and evening with them, and count them as very close friends, it's potentially rather different to spend a whole week with a couple (as a single), especially when they're soon-to-be-married. However, completely needless worrying. We had the most relaxing and lovely time, chatting, sunbathing by the pool, looking round run-down properties for their next project, lying on the beach with not an English tourist in sight.....

Also had a very entertaining girls night out that ended up at the only English bar in the town, complete with local "Handbags", and a bar owner bearing an uncanny resemblence to Mick Hucknall (XXXL size) who serenaded us all night with some pretty dodgy "luuurve" songs of the pub variety. Priceless. Plus an eighty yr old ex-pat with a twinkle in his eye, who had recently joined friends re-united dating, and was expecting a couple of ladies to join him at his villa shortly. He thought MH was great. "Just think - I get it 4 nights a week! Every week!". Looking back, I'm not entirely sure if he was referring to MH's vocals or the two ladies he was expecting..... The high point though was when Arty Girl got up to dance (she dances very well, and fairly suggestively). The Handbags did not appreciate this competition one bit. After some employing some "interesting" tactics to realign male attention (one bizarrely started doing plie's, another attempted the splits) they left the dance floor with very grim expressions.

The Michael Jackson moment was strange. We kept hearing his name on Spanish radio but didn't realise what had happened. Driving home from the beach, an obituary came on an English local station. Not really listening, then thinking we had misheard or it was a play....then realisation. Arty Girl cried. I don't think we'll ever know the truth about the child abuse accusations, but I wonder if it was a case of naivity and not understanding "normal" boundaries that was exploited and embroidered by people with dollar signs in their eyes. Who knows. But what is certain is that his life was pretty tragic, and he leaves behind three children that obviously worshipped him and will grow up with the legacy of his history (bad and good).

So back home to more sunshine, and few days chilling out in the garden before returning to work. Lovely. However........it turned out that I'm minus Cat One. He had gone missing the evening after I left, and I think BMF was hoping he'd turn up with no-one the wiser, so he left it 5 days before calling Lovely Upstairs Neighbour and Canary for advice. LUN had a few stern words at leaving it that long before telling him exactly what to do (bless!). Eventually it turned out he had been taken in by an elderly lady a few streets away (worryingly the other side of the very busy road where he was run over a year ago). BMF asked her if she could continue to look after him until I returned - I think he couldn't take the responsibility any more knowing how precious I am about the cats. Though seriously, how difficult is it? Feed them twice a day, give them a bit of fuss and a few tummy rubs, that's it. I've never had a problem leaving for hols with sitters before (thanks LUN and Canary). Anyway, I knew nothing of this until I was waiting for the train back from Gatwick and got a call from BMF on my mobile - the ensuing hysterics were probably heard for several miles. But as a result of the temporary rehoming, I now have a cat that keeps going AWOL, is completely confused about where home is, and to cap it off has suspected pancreatitis from being given cheap cat food. The vet has prescribed fresh fish daily, some pills, blood tests, keeping him indoors for a couple of weeks (which also means Cat Two) and Feliway diffusers (cat pheromone scent - ie pretty much cat heroin). So I also have a very big vet and (cat) food bill and a garden room that smells of cat litter.

Think I'll book the cattery next time!

**************************************************

PS re the last blog - BMF was absolutely lovely and understanding. He's staying for another 4 months and will use the time to pick up his finances and find somewhere else to stay. We're stiil good friends. Phew!

**************************************************
PPS Bugger. Cat One escaped and has gone AWOL again. Even microwaving and wafting premium cod fillet has not done the trick. Looks like I'll have to cancel the follow up vets appointment tomorrow morning.

Bugger introspection

.....I've just seen there is a Sarah Arnett sale this evening with 70% off, glasses of fizz, and more importantly a goody bag.

Bugger instrospection. I'm off for some retail therapy!

http://www.saraharnett.co.uk/

Don't read this, read that

....I'm doubtful that anyone other than a few loyal friends actually read my fledgling blog, but if anyone finds their way to this site through the blogsphere then redirect immediately to Siren Voices. The man has the soul and voice of a poet.
http://sirenvoices.blogspot.com/

Introspection and a difficult decision

Strange to realise it is only Wednesday as I write this. I feel as though I have spent several weeks wondering what to do. N moved in just over a week ago, but the couple of days he has been away have really helped to clear my head. The peace is truly wonderful. Already I feel just that little bit lighter, calmer.

I saw Mellors for the last time on Friday, having finally come to my senses and accepted that I was not comfortable with the situation, and more importantly had lost my self respect.

N is more difficult. I know that ultimately I can't continue to live with him, but feel torn and guilty because he really is like a brother. And I know he has been looking forward to being here, felt like he is "coming home". Oh god. He has had such a difficult time over the last few years. But I just can't deal with the conflict and disruption to my life. I feel like I'm losing control again and my home is no longer my sanctuary. So I know what I have to do, and I know that he will be lovely and understanding, but that doesn't stop me feeling incredibly guilty and worrying about his future.

So that is two decisions made, and I'm sitting here pondering again. What do I do now? How can I get my life on track?

Cleaners, dastardly behaviour, ostriches, and ex's that won't disappear.....

Oh what heaven. My lovely cleaner who went AWOL a few months ago has returned! I was actually clock-watching at work the day she started back beacause I couldn't wait to enjoy my new oasis of cleanliness. The trouble with being an obsessive visitor of junk-shops and flea markets is that keeping on top of all the work that goes with it can seem pretty daunting. No more!

I'm feeling much more myself now. This is despite an episode that brought the drama queen out again.

Best Male Friend (may have to change this moniker) has pestered me a few times to see my text messages with Mellors. I have one of those iPhones where any text messages are recorded and displayed on the screen as a conversation flow, and foolishly I had not deleted them. I had made it very clear to BMF that I did not want him to read them, they were very private, and more to the point he was peverse for wanting to in the first place. He reckoned it was because he wanted to spice up his messages to his girlfriend. Really. Well, my lovely (male) Battersea Friend came down on Sunday - I nipped for 2 seconds to the loo - and returned to find BMF had retrieved my phone from my handbag and was reading the most personal and embarrassing messages outloud. I felt completely humiliated, and was completely furious, even more so because I didn't want Battersea Friend to feel uncomfortable so had to grit my teeth instead of letting rip at the time.

I also heard something this week that I'm trying not to think about too much. Arty Friend told me that Bald Bloke has just split up from his girlfriend, and has been looking back nostalgically on our time together. Apparently he now hates all women except me, whom he has "put on a pedestal". I can only think he must have had a few too many beers (as usual). I'm really not too sure how I feel about this. That's the trouble when you've been involved with mutual friends - Ex's just don't disappear.

BUT, far more importantly....the black dog has gone! The sun is shining! I have 3 days off! And I'm feeling unaccountably happy today. I just hope it's not because of the ex news....

The ostrich may have a point - I think I'll stick my head in the sand for a few days.

PMT and self pity (you have been warned!)

I have been in a foul mood and full of self pity all week.

There are several possible reasons for this.

The Canary is moving out in about 2 weeks and I'm going to miss her dreadfully. I'm really happy that she has fallen for a lovely man who adores her, but a tiny nasty selfish part of me is also very envious. Best Male Friend will be moving in and that is something I also have mixed feelings about. BMF and I have been friends for years. We met in a bar in London and dated for a few weeks but soon realised we'd rather just be friends. That was over 15 years ago, and in the interim we were flatmates for about 7 years and even owned a place together for a while. He is one of my best friends, I love him dearly like a brother, but I still feel as though I'm regressing when I thought my life had moved on. I have a horrible recurring image of us both in our seventies, still flat mates, me still single and childless, sitting looking at each other across the kitchen table and me wondering what happened to my life.

I'm also really struggling again to cope with raging PMT after coming off prozac. If it lasted a couple of days it would be manageable, but it generally lasts for two weeks out of every four. I seesaw between feeling happy, optimistic and alive for half the month then wake up one morning feeling as though there is a great weight looming above me, and everything seems hopeless and heavy and dark.

Finally, I didn't ovulate this month. Since my last relationship ended a couple of years ago, I've been looking into trying to get pregnant using sperm donation, so have been monitoring my cycle for the last few months using one of those little electric monitors that tell you when you're most fertile and when you ovulate. Well this month I didn't ovulate and I've convinced myself its a sign of early menopause. I know in theory that this can be normal, but when you see it on the monitor I can tell you it doesn't FEEL bloody normal.

All in all, think I'd better avoid blogging until my hormone levels, the planets, or whatever else realigns. Then perhaps I'll remember I'm actually very fortunate and should be thankful for all that I have.

The Drama Queen has now left the building.

Lovely lovely lovely evening

Very topline summary from the "Kitchen Dog" evening (and bear in mind there are loads of complicated family politics which I won't go into here):

Firstly, TC is amazingly talented and her work was in a different league to the other choreographers. Easily.

Posh Totty cousin: " (brother) "Old Tar" cousin and I have always thought of you as a sister"

Glamorous Mother (aged 66 yrs): "I've just discovered my sister is a friend and I enjoy her company"

And a real "mumism":
Me: "Until I was 10 I always thought once women had periods they had to take the pill or automatically become pregnant"
Glamorous Mother: "Is that why you went on the pill so early darling?"

Kitchen Dog

I'm taking Glamorous Mother and Posh Totty Cousin to see The Canary's new contemporary dance piece tonight; part of a show she and a couple of other choreographer/dancers have put together for the Brighton Fringe. GM is "SO looking forward to seeing a new ballet, darling!". The piece is entitled "Kitchen Dog" and is based on TC's experiences temping in a restaurant. It involves lots of swearing and dancers/chefs simulating lewd sexual acts.

Posh Totty and I are poised to cover GMs ears and eyes at appropriate moments.

She will probably be blind and deaf for most of the performance....

Puke, poo, wee and dead things

A plague on the cats.

Cat One has decided my newly planted vegetable bed makes a great dirt tray, stares defiantly at me while poo-ing on the rocket, and completely ignores my shouts to "get OFF there you little Bugger".

One or both of them have also turned homicidal. While this was confined to the garden room I resigned myself to cats being cats and just cleared up whatever fur, feathers and body parts appeared on the floor. However, I was woken yesterday by shrill squawking. This went on for a good few minutes until I could no longer persuade myself it was coming from outside my bedroom window. Opened my eyes to see feathers and fur flying through the air, yelled "BUGGER OFF", and a dark stripy thing with a mouthful of bird shot out of the door. He/she thoughtfully left behind some bloody innards, a leg, and a foot just by my bed. Great.

Last weekend Cat Two puked on the beautiful deep fluffy cream rug in the sitting room. Cat Two has a well deserved reputation as a powerhouse puke machine. She is quite a sight in action. Her neck goes back and forth a few times, the puke shoots forward and she simultaneously shoots backwards with a look of complete astonishment on her furry face. Why she is surprised I don't know, as this is hardly a rare event. I've given up taking her to the vets as he can never find anything wrong and I just end up with a large bill for pointless potions and "special" foods (ie probably same price per ounce as platinum). I never go into the kitchen barefoot in the morning now after having stepped once too often in one of her squelchy offerings while still half asleep, and having had to hop frantically over to the sink while trying not to vomit myself.

Anyway, I was feeling a little fragile the morning after the hen doo, and Cat One was looking a little too interested in the latest offering. So to stop him treating it as breakfast seconds ("great - thanks sis!"), and being a bit of a slut, I decided I couldn't cope with it right away and folded the puky corner of the rug over to be dealt with later.

Unfortunately I only remembered this quite late in the day when Hippy Chick and Chicklet dropped by. Chicklet raced into the sitting room as she is wont to do (no CBeebies at Chick Towers) and within a few seconds "MUMMY what is the HORRIBLE STINK in here?" was belted out.

Bugger. Caught out in all my sluttiness. But it got worse.

Hippy Chick very gamely offered to help me sort out the offending puke rug, and just as we started rolling it up, found underneath....A DEAD MOUSE. Another offering from the homicidal one I guess, though I'm concerned about this new penchant for hiding the bodies.

However, the flat has never been so clean since. I've prodded and poked under every piece of furniture and ransacked all their usual hiding places. Didn't find any more remains, but did get rid of an awful lot of dust and balls of cat hair in the process.

Finally, just to top off the week, New Fling dropped by today for some lunchtime naughtiness. (Lets call him Mellors, for reasons which will become obvious.) He took a good look at the new lawn he laid for me only a couple of weeks ago, and told me that the friendly fox I thought was so cute has been poo'ing and wee'ing on the lawn and this is killing off a large part of the turf. I have to confess, part of me is pissed off but another part is thinking....shame, he'll have to put those gorgeous muscles to work when he's sorting out the damage, and no doubt he'll get all hot and sweaty......

Yum. A sliver lining and all that.

Going to Level 6....

I know it's wrong, but I have great hopes of the whole piggy flu thing.

One of my team called this morning to say she had flu symptoms. I immediately went to Blonde LEVEL 6 (drama queen mode).

Contacted my manager, HR and Occ Health, secretly having visions of the entire site being isolated and surrounded by news crews. You know the scene in ET where they cover the house in tenting, scientific & army type men with chiselled jaws and clipboards are marching around in masks and white overalls, there's a dramatic soundtrack overlayed with the sound of respirators etc etc? Well within a few seconds of the call I was picturing ALL of that but of course on a much much GRANDER scale with myself taking a leading role.

Couldn't decide whether senior management would all be incapacitated leaving me to heroically take charge of the situation (and of course brief the media), or whether I would be pictured on various news channels as one affected, lying languidly on a stretcher but bravely facing my imminent death (while still managing to look glamorous in a consumptive kind of way).....

Sadly its not to be. Occ Health have said its probably just a cold, and no, there is no need to shut down the entire site and send home 4000 people.

I think my manager and HR are wondering whether my recent promotion was a good idea.

Oh well. Guess its back to work then.

Bank Holiday Dilemma

So its the bank holiday and I have a whole day to fill. That should be a wonderful thing. After all I can do as I please: I'm single and have only 2 cats in terms of dependents, live in what is definitely the most gorgeous part of the UK (apologies to all - us Brightonians are fiercely proud of our city), the Brighton Festival is in full swing, the beach is only 2 mins walk away, and I have a rather wonderful and eclectic group of friends who can usually be relied upon to call or drop by during the day unexpectedly.

However...Arty Couple are away for the day in London; The Canary is rehearsing then going out to watch a dance piece with her BF; Best Male Friend will be recovering from another night of debauchery in some random woman's bed and contemplating whether he should see his girlfriend tonight; Friend Up North is, well, up north; Luscious is up to her eyes in husband, toddler, and naughty (but beautiful) 4 yr old daughter; Lovely Upstairs Neighbour is in Tenerife for the week etc etc....in fact, am I the only person here? If I step outside the front door will I see a single tumbleweed rolling past and hear a lone dog howling in the distance.....???

Here is what I SHOULD be doing.
- Going to see my 93 yr old grandmother who wilfully discharged herself from hospital on Friday and has since been ensconced in her bungalow, revelling in the attention and issuing frequent regal commands from the bedside to rather pissed off daughters and grandchildren.
- Visiting my (now) harassed Glamorous Mother who only lives 10 miles away, approx 100 yds from Regal GM, and whom I've just realised I haven't seen for a month.
- Watering Lovely Upstairs Neighbour's garden as she has some new seedlings, is away for the week, and has entrusted this one simple task to me.
- Calling any number of friends that I have shamefully neglected recently.
- Going to one of the open houses, which as well as showing some interesting local artwork and installations, are more importantly a great opportunity to have a nosy look around someone elses house and criticise their taste in decor. My mum loves this part especially. Last year she managed to crash a private view and spent most of the time coming out rather too loudly with comments such as, "oooh look at this, have you SEEN what they've done with their downstairs loo?"

Here is what I am ACTUALLY doing.
- Listening to classic FM and wondering if this makes me irredeemably middle-aged.
- Drinking bitter lemon and pretending there is vodka in it (oh for vodka-o-clock at 6pm)
- Wondering why Potential New Fling who has been obsessively sending me naughty texts for the past week is suddenly strangely silent
- Watering my newly laid lawn when it's clearly going to rain within the hour
- Avoiding tidying the flat which has not recovered from Saturday night/Sunday morning when visitors stayed after the hen doo, and which now has additional detritus from Sunday and this morning, as I may as well turn it into a proper task to put off all day until a frantic scramble at 10pm tonight.
- Thinking about logging on to the free-sperm-donation website again, in the hope of finding a donor who is not a white supremecist or a mad scientist looking to create a master race (really - promise you this is true - will tell more in a future blog)
- Checking out my favourite bloggs to see if anyone else is also lazy enough to spend a days holiday blogging instead of going out and doing things which might give them something to blogg about.
- Trying not to eat or think about food as I have to drop 3 dress sizes by the end of July or be the "fat" bridesmaid bulging out of her dress at the Arty Couples wedding

Fortunately writing above has provided a moment of inspiration....I'll make a "to do" list!

That should nicely put off for a bit longer the moment when I need to actually start doing something with my day.....