Here I am, still gunked up with snot (clear, I've been checking, no need to panic just yet), open-mouth breathing and exhaling heavy sighs approx. once every two minutes. I spent all of yesterday at my new house, sending out emails saying things like:
"I'm just trying to shake this cold. I'll definitely be in by lunchtime"
"I'm afraid I won't be in today but I'm checking email and I'll definitely be in tomorrow"
"I'll deal with that on my return, if that suits?"
"P, COME HOME NOW WITH A JELLY TIP PLZ I'M DYYYYYYYING"
While I did spend quite a bit of time napping, nose-blowing and binge-watching Laguna Beach (the second series, woefully inadequate without LC), I also continued the stocktake of the house. Was definitely warmer after I stuffed dirty teatowels in the half inch gap under the back door. My mother recommended I find "one of those craft fairs" and buy some kind of "handmade sausage" to stop the drafts. It was sometime before I finished laughing. The telephone and internet connections came online yesterday (note: NZ services - infinitely faster set up times than the UK. Sure, you have to hand crank the internet once it's in, but at least it gets set up within two weeks, rather than, say, eight). That is an enormous relief because do you know how much data one chews through when one needs to check the Daily Mail thrice daily? Quite a bit (ROYAL BEBE WATCH PEOPLE, PRIORITIES.)
Oh also, in News Of The Day, Hat Friend scored us tickets to Beyonce! Me circa 2003 is so unbelievably pumped about this news. Seven 30-something girls at a Beyonce concert: what could possibly go wrong? Quite a bit. There's already talk of taking a day's leave (it's on a Friday) to "get ready", for which, substitute "blow out on cheap bubbly before the concert even starts." God, I'm that woman that circa-2003-me would have felt sorry for. How the mighty have fallen. Don't be so smug 2003-me. You wouldn't have had the money to buy tickets. Be grateful to yo' old ass self!