November sucks – there, I’ve said it, so it must be true.
I’ve barely blogged, barely shopped and barely slept. And I’ve not managed to hit the gym quite as often as I should and appear to have hit the wine considerably more – definitely more beaujolais than bufftastic.
November is our silly season; clients want the impossible, employees need to use up annual leave; and the whole office is like a plague-ship, hacking coughs and spectacular sneezefests are compulsory. Our nerds are praying for a zombie apocalypse or something that will destroy their need to meet a particularly imminent and immobile deadline; whilst the young ones are getting excited about the Christmas party and those that were born after the 1980s want to wear brash Christmas jumpers, those of us who lived through that decade shudder at the very thought. There are lunchtime gaggles around monitors with ASOS shopping baskets filling up quicker than you can say, “can you really wear a bra under that?”
And then I stop and remember, it’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas…roll on December.
During my last post I mentioned that my parents were coming down to visit for a few days – there have been a few health issues with them both over the last 18 months so I wasn’t sure how fit they were going to be.
I needn’t have worried – we ate out a lot, drank a drop or two of wine, we shopped until we dropped, Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits took us sightseeing and we even took in a round of pitch and putt when taking a break from all the shopping, eating and drinking.
The pitch and putt was hilarious – it brought out the inner competitor in all of us and there were multiple displays of childlike delight on achieving a hole in one and foot stomping frustrations at gaining a par five or more per hole.
My mother was particularly enthusiastic when driving off, with some of her shots ricocheting around the course. Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits won on the day, although he has the twin advantages of good eyesight and a sizeable amount of hand-eye coordination. We would have stayed longer if they improved their wine list, but that’s a small complaint on an otherwise hilarious outing.
I also showed my parents around our new offices, however, I’m not sure I would recommend “Bring Your Parents to Work” – it meant all of my staff were trying to be super polite whilst my parents were intent on being mischievous. Our R&D team really didn’t know how to respond to some of mum’s more pointed questions. And I did find myself explaining some of the nerdier t-shirt designs because of it being dress-down Friday.
All in all in was a fabulous visit and I can’t wait until the next one. If in doubt, pitch and putt, it really bonds a family together all the while bringing out the aeons old rivalries – a bit like Monopoly but less cutthroat.
I have 3 general moods:
- Happy go lucky
- Bit out of sorts
- Truly, madly, deeply weepy
Number 3 is my code red. It usually only comes on during a particular moving film; the first incident occurred after watching “Truly Madly Deeply” with Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits. We hadn’t been dating for very long, and he had only experienced the normal aspects of my personality, along with my over-tired giggly self. We both love movies and he thought a bit of a romantic weepy was in order after a stint of more serious-minded films. Bless him – he knew not what he did.
I loved the film itself, but I was in such a state of teary-eyed despair, that Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits was seriously worried that I was going to dehydrate, He was prepared for me to cry a bit – and cry I did, for hours and hours. I was inconsolable, I couldn’t stop – that film was just too heartbreaking and I’m a true romantic – love literally does conquer all for me.
He did eventually realise that I was indeed a stable and rational being, but that when I feel something deeply, I have to let it run its course. We choose films more carefully these days.
I had another of those experiences last night watching “A Late Quartet”. Again, I really loved the film, but I felt it a bit too much, especially two thirds into a bottle of red wine. Mere tissues could not cope with the amount of water pouring out of me, drastic measures were required, my fleecy throw had the soft texture required and was also super-absorbent . Definitely not a pretty sight, but nearly twenty years on, my Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits is now used to those little moments of madness.
It’s Saturday, the sun is shining and I’m only slightly hungover – all in all a good start to the day.
I was at a fabulous friend’s wedding yesterday and I managed to get sunburnt. There’s advantages to being pale and interesting – but not in sweltering heat. So I’m going to have to cover up a bit before heading out into the big bad world – although I may have to get my legs out to try and get them slightly more bronzed than alabaster.
The other half is working so I may head into town or to the park to find myself a nice spot to sit and read. It’ll be hard to avoid the dual temptations of ice cream and delightfully chilled sauvignon blanc (NZ) – but today is a work out day so I must try to desist.
Anyway, off on a meaningful meander.