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.....