Jeebers, it's suddenly Cold with a capital C round these parts. These parts being my hands and up my skirt despite the use of thick, possibly knitted tights! I am pretty nervous about heading to Edinburgh tomorrow given the Arctic temps that have re-emerged in London. I know it's probably only happened because (a) a visitor from NZ has arrived and (b) I packed my gloves away yesterday, but crap on a cracker I'm Cold.
Quite excited about Edinburgh generally though, I must say. Walk the Royal Mile, wend our way through the closes, taste whiskey, catch up with friends, perhaps visit Hadrian's Wall. P's mother was born there; I think a wee spot of geneaological research might be interesting (listen to me! I am so COOL and HIP etc). No doubt you will be subjected to a long report about my visit on my return complete with average to poor pictures but c'est la vie, my dear invisible friends.
I have a doctor's appointment this evening. I am very, very concerned about a Lump on my knee (Lumpy, when I'm feeling kind to him). So concerned apparently that I have had it for approx. 2 years before arranging to see a doctor. It's been 8 months since I had Lumpy's potentially disastrous consequences pointed out by a friend with a history of knee trouble. It has stopped me running, which I should probably do something about. Signs of aging, you might say, if you're mean. I'm pretty sure it's a bone spur but wouldn't it be exciting if, say, it required syringing! ULTIMATE WEIRDO PICKER-TYPE SCENARIO.
On another note, let me just say WOW has it been whingy round here lately! I need a decent kick in the seat of my britches because there is so much good in my life just now. I am working out my notice in a job I do not love: each day is a countdown to the end, not a further punishment. I am heading out on glorious travels soon with a generally glorious husband. I am moving my life back to a country I love, with family and friends as part of the bargain. I do not have it bad.
|INGREDIENTS OF A GREAT SUNDAY AT HOME: BOOZE AND THE BOX. SEE THE KLASSY CHAMPAGNE BUCKET SCENARIO WE'VE GOT GOING ON THERE?|
In fact, I think I've got it pretty damn good. It's true but also terribly sad that it takes the reality TV lives of others to recall me to the reality that I've got a generally happy life…but hot DAMN I'm glad I'm not in Karma on the Shore getting sweated on by the Situation. MY LORD I am grateful that I'm not in a on-again/off-again relationship with attention whore Mark Wright while running a beauty parlour that includes vajazzling services in Chelmsford. EGADS I am so happy that my wedding dress was not made in Liverpool from ten thousand metres of tulle in hot pink, so that I could wait at the church for my fiance was still at the pub. FAR OUT things would be worse if I were getting bitched out by Simon Cowell or WORSE Steven Tyler having sung my best rendition of 'Summertime' before a bunch of cameras.
Reality TV: giving me a sense of appreciation for my life since the introduction of Big Brother.*
Too many CAPITALS and EXCLAMATION MARKS TODAY! Do you get the sense I'm forcing it? OH WELL! I drank FAR, FAR too much coffee this morning.
* Full disclosure and OH THE SHAME sometimes I imagine what it might be like to be a Kardashian sister. IT'S SO MUCH WORSE TYPED OUT.