Well hello there. I am back, feeling much less grumpy and far more with it. I had an odd weekend, not how I planned it at all (more later) but so far *knocking on wood* I seem to have come through my funk quickly, easily and with the minimum of rows with people. Which in itself is an achievement. It is too early to say that I am well clear of it, I have a call with Carmen (coach) next week to see how I am doing, but I am feeling more positive again. Thank you to everyone who emailed, called and texted. Especially to Wiz who had to put up with a very watery phone call while in the interval at a comedy show, I hope that I helped throw the evening into sharp relief!
I have had an odd day today, hence me blogging for your perusal sooner than I thought I would be. I took some Nytol last night, which made me very wooly headed this morning, getting up with the alarm was a bit of an effort – but we left the house on time, which we haven’t done for a while, even though DG nearly forgot to get my toast ready. I never expect him to, that he does is lovely, I am buying him a Chinese takeaway tonight as a thank you for his hard work over the last couple of days.
I have a pair of flat black leather ballerina slipper-esque shoes. I am sure you have seen them on girls about town. I have been throwing odd socks away as when I wear them I keep losing my right hand one down into my shoe. The northern line had gone phut again today, the Waterloo and City was heaving, so I walked to the Hayward Gallery to get the 76 bus to the office, the 26 takes me to Bank and arrived first so I got on that one, but by the time I had walked 200 yards to the bus stop I was about ready to take my sock off and put it in my bag. If it hadn’t been piddling it down with rain on a cold, grim autumn day I would have too, my foot was half naked, my shoe looked like a comedy shoe from the Simpsons, it was bulging out at the side and I was hobbling along as well. Having got rid of 4 socks (luckily by accident) I today realised that it was probably the shoe that was the problem, not my socks; I tested this theory out by swapping them over at work. And then put an elastic band round my ankle to keep it in place for the rest of the day. While in a quiet 5 minutes at work (they happen infrequently now I can tell you) I ordered a new pair of shoes from Next to arrive this weekend. While paying on my card for them, I had 4 people standing by my desk waiting, after a 3 minute phone call, I know it was this long as it times it on the screen of the phone. Surely I was not that popular – no it was more to do with diary entries, documents and how do I walk from here to London Bridge (again more later).
I met up with Alice last week, we sat in a pub, then in the bar at the Old Vic catching up on the gossip and having a beer, but waiting to meet her I was on the phone to Sonia – who is also having a mare at the moment. I then compounded her problems as I thought her birthday meal was at lunchtime on Saturday and it was actually in the evening, Dan had to be up early to go to work on the Sunday, so we were buggered and couldn’t get there. I felt awful, especially when I called her to tell her. She was packing, trying to move this week, and wanted us all to get together before they moved. It also meant I couldn’t get her present to her, but the worst thing was hearing how disappointed she was in her voice. I have sent on her and Pete’s cards to their new address and tried to call her, but not yet been able to catch up with her to find out how they went. *bad Maddie* especially when I tried to joke about not worrying about telling Sarah who had made the reservation, as I was more worried about telling Sonia. Cocked up badly there.
On Saturday we slept in, till 8am! That is early for you lot, but when you are up at 5.30 all week was bliss, we went shopping, I had another snooze, discovered our DVD player isn’t working and we need to get a new one and I made lasagne for dinner. I made a huge one, we got 8 portions out of it, it was lovely too – I added baby sweetcorn and courgettes, peppers and celery to the sauce.
Sunday we got up and faffed for a bit, thought about what to do, decided to go to the Farmer’s market in Winchester – sorry Dean for not calling you, but I reasoned that you would have liked more than a couple of hours notice of us coming over. We packed up some provisions as I have wanted to take DG on a walk past the Itchen and up St Catherine’s hill for ages, we brought some bread rolls and cake in town. We also put a cool box in the back of the car and brought some buffalo meat, an enormous chicken, and some dairy bits. DG was cooking Jamie Oliver’s stroganoff in the evening so we needed a few bits to make up the recipe, reasoned that we would have to go shopping (again) so killed to birds with one stone. The market was heaving, we were invisible, but there was no one there complaining that they weren’t going to buy carrots as they had mud on them. Erika and I were stunned into silence when we heard that one.
We left the car in the Chesil Beach (why??) car park and walked down past the Black Boy, round the back of the college, along the river, we crossed over the road leading to the old dump, past the Abbey, and out of town parallel to the houses and road in past St Cross (this is for Dean, so apologies to everyone else for the description), then hung a left along a disused road to the bottom of the hill. Walking past the disused railway line, we slowed down to avoid a loud group of ramblers, sped up past people in white cowboy boots (!) and skirts and generally enjoyed the air, the green surroundings and each other. Chatting all the way round we made plans, laughed, joked and looked for fish, how many colours of green there are, and how lovely trees look just starting to turn, why do you get some black sheep and other little mysteries. DG got some funny looks, he is trying to find a nice pair of walking trousers, but you can’t keep looking at people’s butts to find out what they are wearing. We puffed and blowed our way up the steps on the side of the hill, sat down gratefully at the top and enjoyed the vista, our lunch and a nip of brandy.
I am on the train on the way home, the bloke in front of me is asleep and lolling. Everywhere. He has bent over to the right, got his head stuck in between two seats and nearly brained himself on the seat in front of him. He keeps jerking himself upright, but his body is saying ‘lay me down!’ alice sent me an email the other day, she had one guy stuck his finger up at her, but as he was busy making all sorts of noises and twitching she thinks he had Tourette’s and forgave him. It made me giggle when I read it, we compare tube-treks of a morning. She is on the northern line, so has far worse a time of it than I do. Claire came into work on Monday and demanded ‘WHY?’ we paid people to travel on the tube and fumed at her desk for the rest of the morning. She had just got herself sorted out; then started revving herself up for the return journey. It does make you wonder why we do this at times.
I know most people think I am mad when I tell them what I do, where I do it and where I live. Especially over the last couple of months because work has been so hard going. But I have a solution, I am going to work on it with Becky and Victoria and see if we can work something out. We have had a steady procession of temps in the role, the latest one wanted to know how to get to London Bridge from the office. look at a map?!
Better go we are getting to Havant, so need to pack up and get ready. We have one woman who stands up at Wimbledon to get off first in the morning at Waterloo, then stands up from Havant to get off first at the Harbour! I know I walk quickly, cluck under my breath at people getting in my way (ok, sometimes it is louder than that, depends if I had to walk into the road to avoid them just stopping, or crashed into them completely) but I ain’t that desperate to get to/from work.
Later people, I am going to try Sonia again…