Workshy

I am procrastinating.

I don't want to work. I want to sleep.

I, do, however, need money.

I must, therefore, work.

Bugger.

Nessun dorma

I have had trouble sleeping again. The pains near my ribs and the physical discomfort are to be expected at this stage of pregnancy but, flipping heck. I felt like a zombie as I sat having my cereal and toast and had to set my work aside to clamber back up to bed (the effort of this left me breathless).

Mum brought me some chicken curry for lunch. This was brilliant, as I would otherwise have eaten what was in our fridge (bread and cheese), which is not a balanced diet. My trip to Sainsbury's to stock up on fruit and some other stuff will have to wait. These things (shopping for food, working, climbing stairs) would once have been so easy. OK, so sleep was never my strong point but it was getting there. Dang.

What I did today

I did nothing. Well, mum and dad looked after me, cooked me lovely food and I spent the time I wasn't eating in bed, resting. (S was playing cricket all day, one of the last in the season.)

I've not had such a relaxed day in years. I didn't think I knew how...

Crushed conkers

There were a few crushed conkers near the little riverside car park. They lay there, burst by car tyres, beautifully brown and green and white, not yet hardened. Food for the squirrels, I imagine.

It is autumn!

Hot tea

Had some tea – black tea with fiery chillies in it – today. I'd met a friend for a catch-up and we chose my local tea house with its civilised tables, trays of cake and remarkably long menu of tea varieties as our venue.

It was a delicious drink – hot, refreshing and had a satisfying kick. I even parted with a few quid for a pouch of the stuff to take home. It would make a great morning pick-me-up , which, by God, I need.

I feel a bit sick now though...

The disappeared

It's funny – peculiar, not haha – how people come and go from one's life. I didn't really expect to lose friends, or to have them drift, just because I am expecting a baby. But it has happened. I can try to understand the reasons but part of me is pretty annoyed about their selfishness.

I am not the sort of person to talk about one topic endlessly (i.e. impending motherhood). Never have been. It's insulting that some people seem to be unable to deal with events in my life and I am certainly not going to apologise for getting on with things. OK, so I have less time and far less energy to blog, go out and entertain. But c'est la vie. It doesn't mean I've turned into a bloody cabbage. I've seemingly been struck off a couple of people's friend lists and even blog lists. Not what I expected, but hey, it seems that if I can't go out and drink/stay out late, or X, Y or Z (and then write about it), well, that's that.

Well, bollocks to it. I am heartily sick of being a silent, understanding, doormat-type psychiatrist for those who apply my life events to their own, find some huge relevance and threat, and cannot step back from whatever crappage may be behind their 'distance'. I'm fed-up with sending emails filled with questions and interest in the other person that elicit lukewarm shite. I'm fed-up with my invitations to meet being batted away with "I'm busy/ill/broke" etc. We're all fucking busy, feel sick at times and have no cash. I'm fed-up with making allowances for this and that. Enough.

Things are not all bad on the people front, though. Far from it. My faith in 99.9 per cent of people I care for remains, as ever, strong – stronger, even. And the kindness of someone I'd lost touch with has taken me by surprise. It's a funny old world.


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Listening to: Talk Talk - Life's What You Make It

Big Riddance

Big Brother really is a pile of rubbish now. I watched a bit this evening before putting the dishes in the washer. The latter was far more entertaining.

Fab 40

I celebrate my 40th birthday this coming week.

Flipping heck.

Am not really hung up on the 'Oh, I'm old' lark, being an eternal child, but I recall little things, such as thinking, at the age of six, how ancient 12-year-olds were. And when I was about 12, I thought our 23-year-old teacher was an old bag (well, she was, but that was more about her personality defects)...

So, anyway, what with the bump growing and that, my plans to have a raucous, drunken affair are now put on hold until the next big one (or a Lotto win). Instead, and I am really looking forward to this, we are having a long lunch by the river in a lovely place. People will surely marvel at just how mature and sophisticated I have become, as I sip elderflower cordial. But seriously, I don't mind about the 40 or the sobriety. I feel very blessed, for many reasons, and those reasons – all people I love (including my new unborn one) – are priceless. Spending time with them over the next few days will be the best present.

Swear box savings plan

OK, so some of you may know I am with child. And some of you may know that I sometimes swear. Badly. Not often, but it would appal my mum. She'd be seriously shocked if she could hear me in a proper rage...

Anyway, S and I have both (separately) seemed to conclude that we (as parents-to-be) swear too much at times. So, I would like suggestions for mummy-friendly curses, such as the following:

Golly-gosh willykins [S has actually used this]
Whoopsadaisy
Bobbins [love this, another S special]
Fudge
Sugar
Crivens
Gosling [mum once told me it was ruder than 'fuck', which I had picked up off some oafish boy, so I called several kids in my infant school playground 'goslings' - no one questioned it]

Suggestions, readers?

Hotter than hot

I know that if I looked back at my posts from a year ago (and the previous year), I'd find myself moaning about the summer rain and the rubbish temperatures... but honestly, being pregnant in this weather is no picnic.

I'm one of those people who usually need the central heating on until June has begun. I never remove any clout till May's out, I tell you (though I did take off jumpers and wrap them around my waist when it was warm in spring). But flipping heck, this 30 degrees lark, well, it's doing me in. I'm so hot. There seems to be no breeze, no wind. I get excited when I hear the rain start and can't believe it only lasts for five seconds. Bloody teasing clouds.

Needless to say, sleeping in this heat is interesting. (I am trying not to swear, as I don't want to teach the little baby-in-belly any bad words; apparently she can hear my voice now...)

A quickie

Been absolutely ages since I have been on here... I almost forgot my login details. But, anyway, hello. I am here, just to say hello and to plead excuses as to why I haven't blogged for such a long time. In a nutshell:

Morning sickness (that went on all day)
Moving house (this was a saga; I was coordinating the move, God knows what the estate agents were getting a fat fee for, the buggers)
Sorting out house (this is still ongoing)
Feeling really, really tired (I have a bump to carry around now - it isn't huge (people say) but I've put on an eighth of my body weight (entirely normal))
No internet access (well, apart from at my parents' home)
Work's been rubbish - there's hardly any to be had - but thank God I don't have to commute for three hours a day. Blessings disguised, I tell you...

And that's about that really. Me, the four-plus-hours-of-kung-fu-a-week girl, can barely get up the stairs without needing a sit down. I've started yoga and t'ai chi, though, and go for walks, too. This to me is pretty strenuous stuff.

Anyway, I shall update again and include more detail. I will try.

Rain dear

I was quite pleased it rained today after the lovely long days of sunshine. The garden was thirsty and it was comforting to hear the patter of drops on the windows.

(I hope the sun comes back soon, though...)

Gurkha scandal

So, we appear to be a haven for people the French (and others) don't want and are a happy home to convicted criminals and purveyors of hate who we have to keep 'for their own good' because the right-on loonies says it's fair... But this increasingly moronic government has decided that it won't allow the majority of these top-class soldiers, who have risked their lives for this country, to live in it?! The Gurkhas have been treated abominably. It's disgusting. Sometimes I think we are living in some kind of warped Truman Show where the experimenters set up situations to see just how fucking stupid we can be.

Property solicitors: my thoughts

Some are good, OK, OK. Mine is great in fact. But some are shockingly incompetent. Why do they lie? Do they secretly wish they'd become teachers of fiction? They can certainly spin a yarn, but having said that, they rarely deliver said tales with any charm. I suppose they relax once they have the job booked. They don't give a damn about the stress they create; it is money for nothing very much. If I charged by the hour to recoup the cost of the time I have spent chasing and writing emails, I'd be booking my ticket to Mauritius now.

I have images of the man who is holding up my home move (he's acting for my buyer and vendor, sandwiching me in a somewhat stale chain)... sitting back in a big leather chair, feet on his desk, hand busy with his crotch. 'Cos that's what he is: a lying w*nker.

Ducking the ducks

Well, we didn't really duck the ducks (or the geese), but they were very funny company as S and I sat by a lovely lake today. The sun shone and we lazed on a blanket all afternoon, as our feathered friends strutted around eyeing us for bits of our picnic. They were partial to M&S bacon rasher crisps and even pecked at pieces of jalapeno chili tortilla chips, which worried me slightly.

As we lay back, we listened to snatches of conversations from the passersby who would occasionally stop and sit on a nearby bench, their words carried to us on the gentle breeze. It was a lovely, lovely day. Just the thing to follow our hectic day of packing boxes yesterday in preparation for our home move.

My pregnant pause

I am expecting a baby in October: very exciting, scary, exciting, scary and erm, exciting and scary...

The day I found out was the same day I was told I'd lost my job (no notice, as I am self-employed). Two weeks before that, we secured an offer on our flat despite it not being on the market (we'd tried to sell it unsuccessfully for about a year in 2007-08)... Then we found a place to move to (due to happen in the next few weeks).

To say the past few months has been a whirlwind is an understatement. I've suffered (and am suffering) dreadful sickness but I'm told that this will "just go one day". I can't even open the fridge beyond 5pm. Thinking about it now is actually making me retch. My sense of smell would rival a bloodhound's.

Crazy stuff. All amazing, but crazy (in a good way).

A day in the sun

I felt rotten – dizzy and sick – until I ventured into my back garden and potted a plant that I will be taking to the new place. The fresh air and warmth were like magic. Said plant had been suffering under the shadow of the massive clematis and was straining to reach light and was probably starved of water and suchlike. I imagine the clematis roots spread far and wide.

The sunshine on my arms felt good. I've been stuck inside for what feels like months, feeling pretty rotten. And when I am inactive I feel the cold more acutely than I would otherwise. So, it was great to get outside. Then, my neighbour popped round and gave me a present, totally unexpected, and beautifully thoughtful. When we move, I'll think of them as current friends, not old neighbours.

Later, I went for a drive and succumbed to a McDonald's (I know, I know...). I ate it overlooking the green nearby, the sun shining on me, my CD player on. Next, I went home, sat on the sofa, stuck on a CD that a friend had given me for Christmas (Sarah Slean – very good, like a female Ben Folds) and I finished the novel I was reading. S came home later, exhausted, having spent seven hours cleaning his little boat, as he's selling it. He had caught the sun and hadn't eaten all day but looked happy with his work.

It turned out to be a lovely day. Peaceful and warm. Bliss.

Springtime time lag

I have just about recovered from the time change last weekend that has enabled us to escape British Winter Time, or whatever its name is, so that we can enjoy longer, brighter evenings and see blooms springing up all over the place. The clematis, which has never been pruned and now has a blackbird nesting in it for the second year running, is heavy with shiny green leaves and white, scented flowers. I will miss this sprawling plant when we move later this month. I have let it grow wildly, so it hides the high wall of the building next door, and it has done me proud. If I could take it with me, I would, but it is massive: 20ft high by 20ft across, or more. The new place has a garden that is not shared, so I am looking forward to getting my fork and spade into that.

I don't know if it's the spring thing, but I seem to have developed sleep problems anew. I'm knackered. My head hurts intensely. I feel hot and cold simultaneously and consequently draw up or flick off the duvet for what feels like most of the night. This may be something to do with the weather or light, or something. Sap rising or something.

Diamond sky

I remember some of the dream I had last night. It was one of the most beautiful I've had to date. There were people I love in it, doing things that I can no longer recall. I think, possibly, that I even flew, soared, at one point.

Then, there was one part where I looked up at the sky – in daytime – and saw thousands of stars glittering like diamonds. There was no blue sky, in fact there may well have been cloud, but the sky was breathtakingly stunning with the most scintillating display imaginable. Whatever it all means, it left me feeling uplifted.

Surrealism

I haven't been blogging much of late but that's because I'm having a rather strange time. Some strange-good, some not-so-good, some just plain old good and some not good.

I realise that that doesn't explain anything. I'll explain when I find words that are clear enough. Not sure when that'll be, but it'll be.

Drivers in the rain

Why is it that people drive stupidly slowly when there is even a hint of water on the roads? Why? I'm not advocating speed or tailgating (both of which I hate) but a little common sense and absence of fear of wet roads would not go amiss during rush hour. We are, after all, in northern Europe.

The rage

Today, I had The Rage. It was caused by: slow drivers, people who amble along reading/writing texts at rush hour, the slush, the stupid printing machine at work, the IT people at work (one had the gall to tell me to turn my computer off and then on again, FFS), my friend cancelling dinner as she didn't want to venture home when it was late (and I really, really needed a drink and a chat, so I was peeved)... and, erm, there were other things, too. I swore like a trooper/trouper (?!) without much self-consciousness. But then again, I have spent years in newspaper offices/publishing. It's tough. You have to be.

But I'm home now and have eaten a creme egg (after having some proper food). And it is Friday! Hurrah. All's well with the world.

The snow bear

I made a snow bear in the local park with S this evening. It was very cold and my fingers were frozen (despite wearing gloves). The bear had little ears and small but thick arms (made of snow). S and I also had a snowball fight. Then we went home and I made dinner and baked a soft chocolate cake with fat, sweet cherries in it.

I have a feeling I am going to have to struggle in to work tomorrow. Oh dear. My journey involves two bus rides and a train journey... Fingers crossed that a) it snows really hard tonight or b) it thaws – now.

White city

Well, I got my wish: road-stopping snow. It's really thick and still falling... London has come to a standstill. I'm meant to be in an office the other side of town but there's no way to get there (it would take three or four hours to walk there, at the very least).

I haven't done any work yet today because no one could get in to prepare the pages that I need to look at. This will mean late nights at work on Thursday and Friday... arrrrgh.

I'm eating lots. Well, it's cold. That's my excuse.

Snow way

I like either a light dusting of snow or a proper road-stopper. None of this mush that melts relatively quickly and then freezes to form a slippery surface upon which I always walk gingerly. I don't like it – especially if I am hustling to work. I like my ground dry and non-slip, thanks very much. Or nice and crunch-crunch-crunchy with deepish snow. You know where you stand with that (literally).

At the moment, it's very pretty. Walking from my friend's home to the pub (to meet other friends for a pub quiz – came second again, for the umpteenth time...) was lovely as the snow flurried around our heads. The sky is now softly glowing and there is an air of quietness. On Monday morning, during rush hour, it may be somewhat different.

Anyway... it's February today. I ask you. How'd that happen? In any case, I hope you have a good one.

January...

...where did you go? Eh? How can it be February on Sunday?

When I got up this morning, I was surprised at the pale pinkish light in the sky. I wondered momentarily what was wrong then realised I was witnessing sunrise.

Virus

It's nearly 4am. I am sitting here with a mug of honey and Lemsip, albeit orange (or sommat) flavour, which makes it more bearable.

I hate colds. They are poo. But I still went to kung fu last night on account of my positive mental attitude: I do not have a cold, I am healthy, I am strong and viruses cannot win!

Bugger.

Forgetfulness or madness?

I cannot believe I asked my friend about his cat, his old faithful moggy, only to be told that he had already told me about the poor animal's death. I feel bad.

I half think he maybe didn't really tell me.

I half think maybe he did and I was in the throes of something that managed to occupy all of my headspace.

That is not good.

Eyes and teeth

I am so tempted to have a moan, as I am tired and a bit blue. But that would not be in keeping with my positive mental attitude, would it?

I swore viciously at people and myself (in my mind, I mean) throughout the day for various reasons (traffic, bad driving, patronising stuff, being shite – yet again – in kung fu) but other than that it was eyes and teeth, eyes and teeth...

Tempus...

This blog will be two on January 15th. How did that happen?

The past two years have been a blur of sleeplessness, sleep, rabbits, rabbit, no rabbit... noise, quiet, overwork, underwork, couch potato-ism, kung fu fighting, anger, and peace of mind, too.

I wish to build on my peace of mind. This is the basis of sanity. It works well with sleep and makes the other things on my list manageable. And I am striving to have a PMA where possible. These things help to minimise the effects of life's variables.

I hope 2009 is being good to you so far.