I'm up, awake, it's 7.40am and I'm not… on a train? This seriously does not compute. I'm sitting in our living room looking out of the window onto our decking, which has become festooned liberally with a (nearly) brand new hot tub. Suddenly, a week of packing and panicking seems a little easier to deal with! I hasten sadly to add that said hot tub is actually Gordon's, but I expect I can enjoy it vicariously through various joy-filled photos of him having fun while I'm away.
After a pretty emotional Friday, which I began intoxicated and lying on my office sofa (I highly recommend it, it literally puts a wonderful spin on things) and ended crying on a couple of colleagues' shoulders with my snotty hungover face, the weekend has been one of 'taking it easy', which means having one beer less than usual with dinner. I have managed to pick up a pretty skanky cold and I suspect that might be more to do with the craziness of the last few days than any actual propensity to illness. This means I have woken early as usual despite having marginal sleep, unable to breathe, and with a twisting nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach as the to-do list mounts ever higher.
Not that I am in any way organised and adding to this list in a sensible, prioritised order. Oh no. This is a list I add to in an invisible notepad I keep in my head, in particular the section where short term memories are formed and then lost rather quickly. I imagine this list to be maintained by lazy mini nanobots, the kind that are on a forced work placement in order to keep their Jobseeker's Allowance. So I am also up early to add to this list in some sort of sensible, prioritised order and not have a nervous breakdown when I realise that I can't do it all in one week.
Wish me luck…
x
No comments:
Post a Comment