Touch of sarcasm (TM).*
I love my family. Really! However, I find the start of my summer holidays in New Zealand completely batshit crazy and family time is not always particularly relaxing. First world problems BLAH BLAH let me tell you them.
- I finish work in December under a complete cloud of crazy. I'm frantic, as the office is closing down for three weeks and of course the clients want everything done yesterday before Christmas. At least 50% of them will be working through the summer, so they don't give a rats about the holiday. Besides which, I've been out and about on company entertaining and personal social catch up missions throughout the month, not to mention a weekend out of the country (boo hoo, what a punishment! you say. Yeah, that's fair I guess.)
- Then, once I'm finally done in the office for the year (by done, I mean I've walked out at the end with a giant 'deal with it later' pile in the corner), we immediately have P's family pseudo-Christmas dinner. At our house. We're catering. There will be fewer than 10 people this year (thank Oscar the Grouch) but there's still a lot to do. Oh, and my best friend is in town from London so I am having her around for lunch first (can't not! It's been over 18 months since I've seen her face! And having her to our place allows me to prep meals and gasbag at the same time!)
- 8am the next morning, on a plane with my sister K. We meet Mum and Dad, then enjoy a three hour drive even further south, followed by a meal with some of P's paternal family.
- Next morning, ferry over to the island. We're there for a week, plus a night in the Catlins on the way back. Poor old P is stuck on a frigid wee island in the Roaring 40s in a bach with his in-laws for a week. I pity the fool.
- P and I arrive home at approx 9.30pm on the 30th.
- We get up the next morning, and drive three hours to the beach to meet friends. Goodness only knows how many of us will be jammed into a wee place looking for a good time, but it will be mental. MENTAL.
Oh, and P has decided he wants us to go swimming with great white sharks while we're on the island. GREAT STRESS RELIEVER, P.
Call me Moaning Milly. Really, it's not so bad. In fact, all of the above sounds pretty good, sans a bit of actually having to work. Well, now you know the basic facts of my summer schedule anyway. I've got an end of year thingo to come and will no doubt feel the urge to worddump all over my blog again before Xmas, but I wouldn't be checking back again much before mid-January. For those of you I'm not seeing this Xmas, I miss and love you all.
*Touch of Grey, anyone? Best ad I saw during my tenure in the US. Young dudes giving themselves grey wings (literal, not figurative you dirty bastards) in order to seem more distinguished, trustworthy etc. Brilliant!