Four day working, water less offices, the hot crazy scale and critical reflection.

So the hair sitch appears to be under control, for today at least but this may be because I woke up at 8.50am with 10 minutes to spare before being officially late. Hubby was already awake as he is off work and was woken by the 17 alarms that I slept through. He did the fake I'm awake but pretending not to be thing, but the kitten gave him away by chasing his feet around the bed until Hubby gave in and screamed in pain. You know in a wholly manly way (I wouldn't want to be responsible for demasculating him in my blog). I digress as always so I dealt with the hair by having a shower and forcing said hair into a clip so that if it dried (it didn't) it couldn't possibly expand further than the clip. In hindsight it probably could have and then my clip would have flown off, potentially blinding someone and resulting in my getting sued. (It is my life after all) however the god of mishaps clearly decided that for one day only it was my day off.

Did visit and felt like complete phony (this happens a lot recently) since I'm kind of leaving so when I say I'll see you soon I know this is a lie. That being said at this rate I'll never hand my notice in and still be waiting to swap jobs when I'm 40 and the kids have left and I have empty nest syndrome. Visit was okay in a hokey oh look at the pretty tree (sick bucket noises) and knowing that since it is the season of good will no one actually wants to see a social worker. On a plus note I only have to go to work tomorrow and then its the weekend. This appears to be of benefit if you don't know that I got shafted on the Christmas staff percentages deal and know that I am not taking any time off at Christmas and have to man (or woman or if you want to go totes PC then person) the office all by my lonesome. So two whole weeks of office shenanigans all on my own during the Christmas period in an open plan office. I have in advance already arranged (if only in my head) the wheel round the office in the fastest time on my chair race, eat as many mince pies without throwing up and prank "Hi this is Santa I want a refund" calls. I don't say this often but I think this may actually be the first official time when I miss my old job, don't get me wrong I got to do this in my old office but at least I had company so appeared slightly less deranged at the time. Hubby is taking me away for the weekend or I didn't do ANY Christmas shopping so lets do it in a BUSY bustling city where I can at least wash the stink of it off in a real live bath. I did tell hubby as soon as mentioned the B A T H (interesting that I spelt that out like a  dirty word which considering that it is kind of dirty is I think apt)
word that as soon as we check in I'm getting in that sucker (the bath not hubby) and screw the Christmas or other shopping and that he is on his own! He wasn't amused but I was only half listening anyway!

So tomorrow is the works party and the secret santa stuff and the bring and share. Not in the mood for any of that because well I just don't feel a part of the team plus I managed to pull someone who the only thing I know anything about is that they are vegetarian. Although in fairness there is only one person on the team that I know anything about and she left (TRAITOR). So tomorrow is going to mainly involve grinning and bearing it, unless I can come up with a cataclysmic disaster which means I can avoid the whole thing and if my secret santa hates what I got her then she can regift and I won't be offended. Additionally less than excited about whatever who got me gets me because they didn't take the time to know me either... therefore today's prediction is box of biscuits or smellys. If I get smellys it'll be because of the whole pickled onion disaster I just know it. On the subject of smelly, the office had no water today, but they sent round a lovely email about being a boy you could still pee (In the woods I assume) and a girl you could walk like 10 miles and have a pee. Then they sent an email to advise that just because the water is sludge brown like errrm poo doesn't mean you can't use it. I gave it a miss and went home.

Learnt new concept today that amused me highly which I think is called the crazy hot scale. The theory being that you can be crazy, hot or both but there are significant consequences for being crazy mad. The hotter you are the crazier it is acceptable to be, however the more crazy you are affects your hotness so it is both a negative and positive scale. This was explained to me via interpretive dance and a linear graph (or it would have been if their was vodka and pens) but I got the gist. I did try to pretend not to be offended that I rank a 9 on the crazy, which as I pointed out on the basis I have never to this day actually been sectioned be much much lower like you know a 7, but then I was ego boosted (because explainee is neither an idiot or have a death wish) with a hot rating of actually I wasn't listening I was incensed by the crazy but in my head it was a 10 on hotness. There was not an actual picture so thanks to the power of paint I present the crazy hotness scale based on my own inner perception


DRUM ROLL.....

Okay now that I offended the entire population and increased my virtual dislikes, being the 18th December all day it's time for the quarterly review of 33 things I haven't achieved... (you know just to pretend I might still be doing this)

1) Have pole dancing lessons... Clearly I was drunk when I suggested this in the first place... I need to lose the assigned 33 pounds before I go near a pole again.
2) Go to theme park Nope
3) Make own clothes Unless putting bow ties in my hair counts... still no
4) Learn to love self... progression...
5) Go paintballing No I can bruise myself at home for free
6) Write book and blog... NAILED IT
7) Lose 33 pounds... I'm going for a wee and a weigh in before I comment.. BRB *sobs* lets just agree that I STILL need to lose 33 pounds.
8) Grow hair If you read this crap you will have seen the recent crazy hair issue... I warn you people I am close to breaking on this.
9) Learn to reverse park NO
10) Go on actual holiday clearly a 2014 dream
11) Buy new furniture YES
12) Get butt flush NO
13) Go back to university Kinda since I have a student card and an essay that I'm already putting off.
14) Drink 33 drinks Not yet
15) Grow 33 fruits and veg Too early
16) Learn to cook SOUP? nailed it
17) Meet Brilliant 2014
18) Quit smoking... Stoptober (again)    Fail
19) Play more games Played loads, still a loser
20) Save ( money not games) Fail
21) Have sex 33 times just no
22) Win Man vs. food challenge (to be determined)
23) Read 100 books huge fail, I'm still reading a book I started two months ago
24) Change job pending
25) Watch 33 or more epic films as decreed by Leelou & Dann I tried to watch it's a wonderful life but it's not
26) Own Converse sad face here
27) Sort out mum pending
28) Do lots of RAKING nope but I do have a envelope maker
29) Have kitten Acheived
30) Glamp (with Essex accent) fail
31) Be Veggie - 33 day minimum  NAILED IT
32) Be Cultural x 3 (or more) I watched the doctor who proms... it's progress
33) Get 33 different catchphrases ( and record them on video) does fuck it all to hell count?

and finally because I spent the entirety of this post singing "your an asshole"

Bellatrix hair, Snowmen and Christmas Tarts

I always feel like I should start an entry with an apology for not having updated recently, but then I would have to use the December excuse and I really can't be faffed with what you already know. So we will move straight to the biggest concern in my life at the moment. The GREAT hair disaster.

Now one of my 33 things was to not faff with my hair, cut it or the like, seemed like a simple task right? No biggie just let it grow and allow it to fall in tumultuous locks like a brunette Goldilocks and be able to finally swish my hair like the girls in shampoo adverts with a smug look at me and my hair way. Finally my less than average looks were going to be improved with what my mother informs me is my crowning glory. People would stop and stare in the street at this great beauty with the amazing hair. I have NEWS people.... people are staring, people do stop, and then they whisper loudly behind their hands and say things like "is she trying to look like the mad one out of Harry Potter?  or "should we call the mental hospital?" or "Good grief (I live in the village where grief is good.) it's cousin IT"

My hair has decided that it is sick of growing down, you know like with the flow of gravity like normal people's hair. Oh no, not my hair, my hair has decided to grow outwards at an alarming rate. At the risk of sounding extremely crass, it's been like this since Nelson Mandela died, so I can't decide if it's like sympathy hair that wants to be an Afro or just that it is mourning the loss of a great man and is trying to be great in it's own right...


My hair above,  it has looked like this every morning. Gloss over the eyebrows I don't do eyebrow management without a lot of vodka and people that are prepared to sit on me - true story. Also bear in mind that this is my morning face. Now again IF I had been at it all night (and when I say at it I of course mean making pom poms and envelopes and nothing else) I could handle this hair. Mum says that clearly I have a lot of nightmares, and that if I don't then with this hair I should. I'm not sure if she is being offensive or helpful but it is mum so being uncertain is just part of my daily existence. Hubby made a lot of comments but with his current curl weird not working for a month shabby chic approach to his hair I refuse to take his opinion on board. Additionally there was a nasty moment in which I tried to clean out my ears and got a cotton bud stuck in this hair (I have done you a favor by not detailing the entire incident trust me)

Now I wish I had sought advice from my hair dressing friend BEFORE I decided to tackle the hair and brush it and put it a bow in it. The bow being because a) bow ties are awesome (FACT) but also because b) you can overlook anything with a bow on it.

this is what happens when I brush my hair and put a bow in it. (We are still not discussing the eyebrows people). Hairdressing friend took the piss and asked why I didn't ask her advice. I'm not going to even comment on hindsight or because I am an ass. I have had to walk around like this ALL day because there is nothing else I can do with it. Hubby tried to comb it and it got bigger, I thought about washing it but the idea of not be able to get out of the shower because my hair was so big genuinely frightened me. Hubby in his wisdom asked SIRI what my problem was. SIRI had a LOT to say about my hair and not a lot of it was polite. After being insulted by a speaking robot and hubby who had a good laugh about the whole thing, they determined moisture and protein were my problem. So I ate my body weight in Jaffa Cakes and Chocolate. Sadly I have to report that my hair is still the same. As I have to go into the office tomorrow and it is wear a horrid jumper to work, I am simply going to wear horrid jumper on my head and call it a hat.

Christmas is fast approaching and since I like to get all crafty and make a mess all over the house I stole the snowman making idea and made a snowman or three. Now for once I actually managed to follow an internet tutorial that promised to be easy and it was. There were no disasters (well there was the throwing the rice all over the floor but that was my fault not the instructions) and I managed to produce these little guy's Admittedly I didn't have any white socks or elastic bands, so I made elastic band tights and used tubi-grip which works just as well!

Snow people  <==== Just in case you want a go, but they are addictive, do not hold me responsible if you have no socks for the remainder of winter!

 

Then of course mum decided she had to have a go, but also gave me a lecture about how "everyone in this house has to listen to your equality bollox and then you go and make white snowmen, I mean what kind of messages are you giving out?" I did roll my eyes and state that snowmen being made of snow kind of don't give allowances for equality because you wouldn't want a brown snowman would you? She then actually accused me of "piffle waffle" before demanding we sit down and make equal opportunity snowmen or coal men (which gives rise to even more connotations)

I have to confess that this guy is actually my favourite! 

Mum's snow baby, after this we had to cease because we had no rice or pulses left and Hubby was making rude gestures about us using his socks next. Also turns out for all mum's spiel about equality was just because she wanted to use up the odd socks from the washing she couldn't match up!!!

In other news, since I appear to be about product placement and recommendations and also about yellow sticker shopping. (Reduced people reduced) I decided that in the spirit of Christmas that Finest luxury gold salted caramel tarts would be a thing of great beauty and wonder. A taste explosion if you will...

Lets just say I'm glad I made mum go first. If I were to make a poster it would read like those old drug adverts (not the ask Frank he would just say hell no!) but JUST SAY NO to Finest luxury gold salted caramel tarts, because even at 70p heavily reduced they are not the kind of explosion that you require in your mouth at any time ever!

Finally with seven days to go, no I have not done my Christmas shopping, no I do not feel festive or motivated but I do NEED a pom pom maker for all my pom pom making requirements and I have created about a squillion envelopes even though I have no intention of posting anything ever.

Fleetwood Mac, Soup, Vanilla smells (good) and burnt fingers...

Der ner ner ner, ner ner ner ner ner....

I'm sleeping
And right in the middle of a good dream
When all at once I wake up
From something that keeps knockin' at my brain.
Before I go insane
I hold my pillow to my head
And spring up in my bed
Screaming out the words I dread:
"I think I love you!"

This morning
I woke up with this feeling
I didn't know how to deal with
And so I just decided to myself
I'd hide it to myself and never talk about it
And didn't I go and shout it
When you walked into the room.
"I think I love you!"

I think I love you.
So what am I so afraid of?
I'm afraid that I'm not sure of
A love there is no cure for.

I think I love you.
Isn't that what life is made of?
Though it worries me to say
That I've never felt this way.

wwwwhhhh

I don't know what I'm up against.
I don't know what it's all about.
I got so much to think about.

Hey, I think I love you.
So what am I so afraid of?
I'm afraid that I'm not sure of
A love there is no cure for.

I think I love you.
Isn't that what life is made of?
Though it worries me to say
That I've never felt this way.

Believe me,
You really don't have to worry.
I only want to make you happy
And if you say,
"Hey, go away," I will
But I think better still,
I'd better stay around and love you.
Do you think I have a case?
Let me ask you to your face:
Do you think you love me?

I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.

Read more: http://artists.letssingit.com/david-cassidy-lyrics-i-think-i-love-you-2p1cx3p#ixzz2nIXVNmul
LetsSingIt - Your favorite Music Community 

Okay so if my life was a feel good movie, this is totally what I would have woken up to this morning, also if my life was a horror moive like oooh Scream 2 maybe also true. I didn't in fact wake up to any my life is a film music just the durrr durrrr durrr of my alarm clock... I do admittedly wish that I woke up and found out my life was a musical complete with epic soundtrack and like Milla Jovovich or Seven from star trek voyager was playing the lead (natch me) and well any doctor was playing hubby.(EVERY DAY)  On the same note I did have a moment the other day when I wondered if this whole life thing was like the Truman Show and actually if I did get on a plane and travel for a long time I would hit a wall.... then I decided that I am just not that lucky and carried on bumbling around.

Wow I waffle way more than I realise huh? That being said you want to get all up in my head and see the stuff I don't waffle about, scrap that you sooooooooo don't I'd get viewed as a whole other person. 

Nothing majorly eventful to report about the morning, except to say that I have added smelling everything before I put it on, having two showers of a morning and spraying myself with a mix of deodorant and febreeze before being around the general public.

As a social worker, which I try and avoid talking about because there are a lot of understandable rules about confidentiality and professionalism which if I want to keep my job I'm not allowed to break. However I will today without naming names or places tell you that I conducted a visit which as a Christmas O Phobe was a real eye opener. Generally I am able to visit people over this period by applying what the Doctor would describe as the perception filter... where there may be trees present and the like but if I don't acknowledge them then they are not present. This has worked for YEARS, until today. I watch a lot of American sitcoms and programmes and the like, and I have never in INKLAND actually witnessed anything with googly wavy arms..... until today. I pull up in full professional mode (non stinky and everything) to a house that has an ACTUAL blow up santa with wibbly wobbly arms blowing in the wind (if it was appropriate I would have taken a picture) and trust me when I say there is no perception filter than can remove that image from your brain. I then enter said property and its like every christmas thing (and also non christmas I'm still questioning the goblin thing) you can imagine that moves, speaks, sings and everything ALL at the same damn time. Trust me when I say it is very difficult to remain calm or serious and discuss life's problems when everytime you move the moose in the corner starts flailing it's arms and singing "merry moosemas" and the santa thing moves it's mouth like a satanic demon and every five minutes, what I assume to be a christmas cuckoo clock goes off. There was also a very uncomfortable moment with some mistletoe, in which I felt that this would be a serious breach of the social work code of conduct. All I can say is thank god I only have one Christmas visit left this year!

After the survival of this episode I then come home to find that mother (who considers herself technologically advanced) has discovered the joys of youtube thanks to the power of facebook (trust me when I find out who taught her this I WILL hunt you down and slap you) and is playing fleetwood mac at the top volume, dancing around the front front room and wailing "you can go your own way" at full blast. I had wondered if she had been at the vodka and then remembered that I drank that all last night. Mum said that I was a terrible example of her parenting since "apparently" I used to love this as a kid (there goes any street cred) and danced around the living room with her.... it was so bad I felt the need to save everyone else with this text:



I tried to save him.....

I recently aquired a chest freezer in the hope that this would make one of my 33 things comes true.... not the vegetarian one I did that already, but the being frugal one. Also as a place to store my many disastrous soups (see lettuce soup entry if not already up to date on this) and so I went to the fridge and since it is both December and Christmas all in the same month my cupboard was bare (insert sad smiley here). Which is a lie, because I like to exaggerate, but after a cull of less than springy onions, what I think may once have been a leek and several lettuces (I don't always like to repeat the same mistakes not even for hilarity and blogging opportunities) I was left with this...

Which could only really mean one thing SOUP.. which as we all know I am amazing at. In my enthusiasm at reattempting such a feat and possibly because of a radio two moment today I decided to go with big tits horse teeth chef (or Nigella for those who don't pay attention to such things). Normally I would pretend that this is because I admire her or something but actually it was because her recipe appeared to take the least amount of effort and/or washing up since we are out of dishwashing tablets. (I only mention this since mum has been banging on about this ALL day in between Mac sing a longs)

Big tits, horse teeth soup

Also is it just me that is amused by the fact that butternut squash looks like a penis when it is whole and a penis and balls when in half. FINE I am 33 and a complete child... 

This is my soup... it looks foul but I haven't actually gotten the courage to blend it because in a moment of non drunken merriment I decided that one teaspoon of chilli wasn't really enough so threw in 3 tablespoons worth instead...I'm relying on the deep freezing and only eating in the event of an actual apocalypse option...

Mum did intervene and make real food for dinner, i.e. bacon and cheese potato bake mmmmmmmmmm, but since I was so disappointed with the soup and my hubby was awol I decided to taunt him none the less...

Recently he has been questioning my vocabulary and I have to keep explaining that made up sounding words are TOTES real, but only if I say them, which I think given that "selfie" made it into the dictionary is perfectly acceptable. My most recent words being "slubbing" which is to slob around but posher, and as demonstrated above baKA.

There has been much colouring of late because I do not (unlike some people) have COPIC markers (again not sponsored but willing to be (should everyone go out and buy some) but do have some awesome stamps and a whole range of promarkers. While I am randomly advertising stuff I will say thanks to JULES (facebook / pink / gogglebox/ soul mate / too many categories to mention) that me and mum (in between soundtracks) spent a significant amount of time discussing the kind of punch boards we now need in our lifes, because now we know better an envelope maker is not enough... additionally mum insisted that since I am so influential I should write to the punch maker and demand either the opportunity to sell their products or demand some kind of commission. She looked pretty terrifying at this point so I just nodded and backed out of the room, which is often the best approach.

OOOH I totally forgot to mention boy child's woes yesterday and at the risk of being a terrible mother, I was amused when 12 year old boy child came home and said "mum do I need to change" foolishly he was wearing his school uniform so I said "yes get your uniform off" which as it turns out he didn't actually mean. He has a crush, on a girl, like a real one and not one off the telly. Apparently he told her he liked her and she said he wasn't her type. This is funny because in the role of reassuring parent I had to explain that a) girls are fickle b) even girls don't understand girls c) most girls do like boys to be clean (as in wash more regularly than boy child) and d) every other explanation of woman hood without doing the female species down or breaking boy child's belief system. This finally resulted in him telling me " I don't get it, she likes bad boys, but if I'm bad you guys ground me, so whats good about that?" I did my best not to giggle and did a whole (and it was epic) speech about not changing for anyone and blah blah which clearly didn't have any impact because he simply sighed and said "sometimes I wonder why life is worth living" this was considerably heart breaking since he is twelve and I feel like this everyday, but I told him when his time came the right girl would love him for all that he is. (Being a parent means having to lie often) Then he came home today full of the joys of being a pre-teen boy because he got an actual Christmas card from  real life girl. Apparently not EVERYBODY hates him (It is not unlike living with Eeyore)

Hubby spent some time torturing the cat with the laser pen, you'd have thought he (cat not hunny) would have learnt by now but no, still in headbutting the window mode.

Mum decided that it was the kind of night in which she should make home made baileys.... this didn't lead to more singing, but a lot of frustration at both Lidl and Aldi for not making Whiskey Mac (which makes me think of my sisters boyfriend wearing a flasher mac) and having to bloody improvise. Please note this has not prevented her from giggling manically (outbreak of singing must be due before bedtime) or drinking the entire 2 litres she insisted on making.

Finally decided to make candles from all my pretty's but burnt my fingers and melted entire candle into carpet on first attempt because I forgot about the greaseproof paper part. Also that my heat gun and wax get hot pretty fast. So above pretty's which I will readdress tomorrow and make classy somehow.

Colouring, Envelope making, caravans and self imposed sun-tans

I am pleased to report that after yesterday nothing entirely humorous or stinky happened today. Thus today has been a dull disappointment.... That being said when I woke from my slumber this morning at 8.59 and managed to roll over and log in to send my working from home email with 20 seconds to spare proving that I can be early to work even from home, I knew it was a popping candy kind of morning...

I cannot express the joy that this brings to toast (which is already awesome) of a morning, or indeed throughout a whole loaf of bread within about an hour. It is both chocolatey goo and popping all in your mouth at the same time. It's like someone said hey there's a party in my mouth and snap crackle and pop are invited if they bring Mr Cadbury. Not that I am advising that you call Mr Cadbury or indeed Mr Kraft and advise him to join the party in your mouth.. that kind of thing leads to a) arrest or b) situations that are difficult to explain to others. Please note I am not sponsored by Mr Sainsbury (who also shouldn't be invited personally to mouth party's) but this product is EPIC... also if I was to be offered a sponsorship deal I would accept crates of this stuff as payment! I'm just saying!

Then with my mouth still popping like nobody's business I put on my work face and went out on visits. Much fun is to be had in caravan parks, where they don't do house numbers but funky sounding names and the damn things go on for miles. Also since the last time I was in a caravan park for work purposes I nearly got buried alive by travelers, (to the amusement of my boss at the time!) I am happy to report that this was a one off experience (that some day I shall tell in full but today is not that day) and that I live to write another blog!

The my mother who for some 33 years has spent lecturing me about not spoiling Christmas by giving presents early completely broke her own rules. I walk in the door and the following conversation plays out like this:

Her: "oooh what have you got?" watching me unwrap presents

Me: "things" (which I cannot reveal)

Her: wow that is soooooooooo cute

Me: yup

Her: SO ERMERGERD (and you wonder where I get it from) I got you a Christmas present and it's like the most awesomeness thing like totes amaze-balls (okay I made the last bit up but it was similar), and I want to give it to you

Me: (suspecting a devious trick) MUM! you have spent 33 years going on about how I shouldn't spoil Christmas and not giving presents early and...

Her: BUT YOU NEED THIS IN YOUR LIFE RIGHT NOW!

Me: I can wait

Her: But you don't have to (sing song voice) just imagine how useful this is going to be, at this, this time of year!

Me: Is is festive related?

Her: Wellllllllllllllllllllllllllllll... it's not festive but most useful at this time of the year (nudge nudge, wink wink)

Me: ah ha

Her: So do you want it?

Me: If I say yes are you going to get all pissy and cross?

Her: no....

Me: you are, aren't you?

Her: OH COME ON already you NEED THIS NOW

Me: (Still feeling mightily uncertain) mum....

Her: yes....

Me: Did you buy me an envelope maker? 

Her: (covering up her entire face) Maybe...

Me: Well if you did and now you don't give it to me then I'm going to pissed 

Her: Oh fine then I didn't (looks cross)

Me: It is, isn't it you got an envelope maker

Her: I'm totally breaking my own rules.... do you want me to wrap it, so you can unwrap it now

Me: HELL NO... just hand it over...

And so my mother who is epic but also rubbish at keeping secrets got me a coveted envelope maker....

 

Which of course meant we had to make envelopes IMMEDIATELY.... 

After much envelope making and colouring (this is never going to get old like EVER) I realised mum was due at work which means I have to do the cooking. Now that I have so much other stuff to do, I decided on reheating rather than making food, only clearly it has been a significant amount of time since I have been near the cooker I have succeeded in giving myself a full on sun burn in the face from the heat... proper skin peeling ears and everything...

And then one of my fabulous friends made Bob a winter jumper which just cheered girl child up enormously so all in all a good day was had by all....

And as an aside I had a wonderful phone call from a dear friend last night that as it always does inspired and cheered my soul. Look I did paragraphs and everything!

These boots aren't made for walking, smelly smells, excessive photos and winter blues.

Fine I have totally slacked on the blogging recently, but I do keep coming back which must count for something. I'm going to continue on in the manner of do what I like and start with today and work backwards. I knew it was going to be one of those days this morning when my internal body clock and voices said DO NOT GET OUT OF BED ON THIS DAY OF ALL DAYS (proper intoned in a doom and death prophecy kind of way) now this isn't unusual this happens every morning after my usual morning routine:

alarm goes off - I hit hubby to turn it off
hubby sets alarm to snooze
snooze goes off - I smack hubby in the face (usually he gets out of bed at this point)
hubby sets alarm to snooze
snooze goes off - small people come in and turn it off because "it's so bloody annoying mum"
I don't hit small people because that people is child abuse
snooze goes off about another 8 times
Eyes open and I do my self body check, 2 arms, 2 legs, body, hands, feet and other appendages (I do this every morning just in case something has dropped off in the night - you never know people better to know before you sit up than leave half a leg in the bed)
Inner voice screams "dammit why I am still here"
snooze goes off for the final time
then the remaining inner voices chant "don't get up it's not going to be any different today"

and yet my family question why I am not a morning person... it's a lot to go through in the first hour of your morning especially when you then only have 5 minutes to get showered, dressed and to work half an hour away! Seriously my mind and body are in shock everyday

Today I should have taken notice but I was determined to be positive. So I got dressed (big mistake) put my boots on (even bigger mistake) and wheeled my wheeley trolley out to the car (most fatal mistake although clearly I am still alive). Drove to first visit and completed it in confident know what I am doing way but pondered about odd sort of smelly smell that was around. Assumed was just the current environment and left for next visit. Discovered similar smelly smell at second visit and decided that clearly I am more sensitive today. Made it to office and wasted at least half a tank of petrol trying to find a damn parking space, failed and used up one of my weekly parking permits getting back out of the car park despite being unable to park... parked a zillion miles away but remained bright and cheerful. Now I am one of these people that does not walk, I am more of a charger, I have places to be and I want to get there ASAP, none of this dawdling or looking at stuff no not me, Pet hate getting stuck walking behind slow walkers.... (I also blame hubby for this as having legs at least a foot taller than mine means he strides everywhere so I have to run to keep up) Anyhoo so I trundle my trolley and march up to work, where surprise surprise I have to fight for a desk (funny how there isn't a permit system for that!) Find one and am plagued by smelly smell but can not identify what it is. It is apparent after some time that I am not the only one noticing this smelly smell, only now it appears to have multiplied and there are two. People who come to talk to me are starting to avoid me or lean away wrinkling their noses which is when I realize that one of the smelly smells is definitely me, lets put it this way there is a reason people have wardrobes so that they don't mix up their unclean clothes from their clean ones.... Never again will I pick up clothes off the bedroom floor (yes okay I am slut and not the sex kind as my mother keeps reminding me) because well I smell like all the onions I peeled when we were making pickled onions 6 weeks ago. Emergency spraying every can of deodorant in my bag in the toilets and nearly setting off the fire alarm.  Which of course meant that I spent the remainder of the day smelling like pickling onions with a hint of aloe vera. (It may have healing properties but it can't erase onion smells from cardigans), As I settle down to a serious afternoon of actual work some one squeals "what is that stink", which of course I am hardly going to stand up in an open plan office of professionals who actually wear clean clothes and announce "oh it's me I am a slovenly sloth of a slut" am I? No instead my face goes red instead and I want to crawl under my desk and die. But that's also not an option since the last time I hid under my desk my boss found me and asked what I was doing and I had to lie and say looking for my contact lens that I don't actually have and then spend half an hour crawling around on the floor with her helping me look which was equally as embarrassing. SO of course then everyone has to start dissecting the smell and trying to put their noses on it (the smell not me thank god) so I am the point of just packing up my bag and leaving (I can smell in my own house this at least is socially acceptable) when another squealer shouts "it's shit, shit that's what it is" (so much for the professionalism) so of course the ritual of checking everyone's shoes begins and I am beginning to wonder if I have confused the smell of poop for onions, but even with my dodgy senses they are two distinctly different smells. I check my shoes and am relieved that although I do indeed smell of onions I do not smell of poop of any kind. Once everyone has decontaminated themselves and announce it's not them I reach into my bag ready to pack up and leave... which is when I spot the dog muck caked into the wheels of my trolley, this is when I KNOW that it is time to leave as quickly as possible because I am not going to be the onion girl and the poo girl.... quickest exit ever people believe me, only stopping to clean said muck off in downstairs toilet. (Yes I trailed it through the building but clearly since I did it on the way in it couldn't get any worse)

I take the trek back to my car, only forgetting where I actually parked which is when my boot heel decided to drop off the actual boot, so now I am wandering around aimlessly with a shitty trolley, onion body and crappy shoes looking vaguely like a homeless person (except that would actually be an insult to homeless people) the only part that made it worse was that after 20 minutes of searching for my car but telling myself to remain calm and that it had to be somewhere was when I saw it like a mirage in the desert lurking at the end of the street where I had apparently left it. Which is why I was somewhat bemused when it took me 5 minutes of pointing my keys at it and it failing to open to realize that it was not my car, or even the same colour. (My car being black and this one red) Clearly my sense of sight as well as smell have been deactivated today. (Must add checking of senses to waking up routine from now on) Eventually found car after much damage to feet and soul. I will confess that I then sat in my car and cried the pathetic cry of people who have no idea what they are even crying about.

Now I may have mentioned this several times but December is not my month, if I had the option to remove a month from the calender December is it, and if pushed I would say that I am happy to discriminate against December more than any other month, I am not an equal opportunities calendar lover. And yet I have tried this month to actually not hate it as much (I'm doing much better believe me on this) but it is still doing it's damnedest to make me hate it some more...

Fortunately I do live with the boy child, who sharing the same sense of humor as me, (read juvenile) took one look at my face when I walked through the door and handed me this

then solemnly said "bottom" in his best minion voice before asking what the onion smell was.... this cheered me up no end to the point that I felt motivated enough for a shower.  Being only 7pm as I type now I have no further stories for the day but I will bring you the photo's and discuss them with great joy

AHAHA - Have most excellent friends who know me far to well (well that and I am not subtle about anything ever... except smelly smells) She sent me lovely Doctor Who Goodies which were apparently unwanted (who lives in her house and are they mad?) and this led to much dancing around the house and singing to my mother's amusement made up dr who songs about snogging in and on tardis' with any or all of the doctors. (It was Joyous) 

The kitten (Salem if you ask everyone else Adipose if you ask me) has decided that he cannot possibly sleep in a curled up position so has now adopted the pretend to be dead pose and woe betide you, should you wake him up...

I spent my weekend being drunk but this time is was different (said the vicar to the actress) because I made stuff's well actually I got drunk, got excited screamed at my friend for not letting me in on the inner sanctum of crafting knowledge.. (which like a certain other club I don't think I'm supposed to talk about ooops) and then she let me play with her envelope maker.... I have so many envelopes I could start royal mail, which with my surname could totally work. And who knew making envelopes was so much fun? Well I do now.

Then this came... Which is TOTES AWESOME... because I love lego, and I love lego games and I love winding up my husband. He thinks I know nothing about anything and that I am only a geek by marriage (lies people lies) So of course I spend most of my time antagonizing him while playing the game and saying things like "when does batman turn up?" and "you know that one, spider-man's brother you know the wolf one with the claws" highly amusing I can do it for hours which always cheers me up. Plus secretly I love it when he is the sidekick (although the sidekick argument that went on for days depends on which side of the fence your standing on)

On the same note I foolishly forgot that I live with geeks (I know it was like a mind wipe or something!) who get amused by anything. This is boy child who took great pride in "hacking" Google so that he could leave notes for Nonna "since she spends all her time on the internet".

Which is how he produced this (shame about the spelling but he was still proud) of course you don't live in this house with some competition (healthy or otherwise) and you don't live with the king of geeks (see what I did there?) and try to teach him to suck eggs

because next thing you know everyone else can do something better with Google than you. Personally why I would want it to mirror everything I write and display all my results backwards I don't know but it amused the boy children in my house and meant Hubby could get all his testosterone out and prove that he is still the man of the house. Boy child only admitted defeat when hubby did a Google drop or some such nonsense...

Now apparently you can't have December without Christmas so I let Christmas (or the girl child) vomit all over my house in a bid for therapy or some such crap... this involved finding every bit of Christmas tat and lobbing it all at the fire place...

Too be fair I was more upset about my Tardis' being relegated to the hall way for this tat but well apparently you have to play nice at this time of year (yet another reason to hate it)

 <==== Tree up before the 5th designed by my children that's all I have to say about this...

But of course it wouldn't be Christmas or me without a complete new spin on it... so I present to you.....

  

 WHOMAS!!!!

(not to be confused with hummus of the chickpea kind)

This made me chuckle at my own wit (modesty is so unbecoming) that I felt the need to share my joy with others....why I though a non Whovian would understand I have no clue

Based on her reaction I am TOTES putting Whovian under religion next time the Census comes round...

That about brings me up to date... and I vow to write more regularly (just like I say every post)

Nothing Much

Today I needed a reason to get out of bed,

And life gave me more than one or two or three

I held those reasons in my heart and made it through the morning 

Today I needed distractions,

And life gave me shaving, work awards and cake

I welcomed those distractions and smiled through the noon

Today I needed love and strength

And life handed me  the colour pink

I wore that pink throughout the day and snuggled in its warmth

Today I needed to hide and wallow in my gloom

And life handed me vodka flavoured chocolate 

I cuddled up and drank that drink and made it through the evening 

Today I needed a cuddle and words that meant a lot

And life gave me more than that 

And I made it through the day because "nothing much" was said 

(C) Tabitha King 2013 

Big Hair. Christmas Trees and Who Tree's

I woke up this morning, and for someone with NO hair, as in it's very very thin from the years of abuse I have inflicted upon it, I woke up to massive AFRO hair, now I wouldn't mind so much if there had been some rough and tumble in the night, to warrant big I got up to naughty's hair, and in this picture I had brushed it twice (no naughtiness by the way), it refused to be tamed in any way shape or form so I just walked around for the majority of the day looking like cousin IT or  a distant relation to Chewbacca.

Mum decided that today was the perfect day to go Christmas shopping, and she had that look on her face that meant that it was and there was no point arguing about it. Plus apparently... we NEEDED a Christmas tree, I agreed because it was easier to keep the peace, but I did state that there was no way I was taking either of the small people with me. Hubby tried to pretend to be a small person but I decided if I was going to have to be tortured by entering endless shops that he was going to suffer the same fate.

So we went shopping, and I somehow forgot that mother is a complete shopaholic, if you can touch it, sniff it, scratch it or put it on, she does, often shes does all of these things. She tried boots on, which as most of you will know then led to the big boot debate. Like do my feet look big in this? YOU HAVE SIZE SEVEN FEET they are huge so therefore YES, hubby gets all uncomfortable about this debate and does that shifting from one foot to another thing like he needs a wee. I did try to explain that its not the same principle as the does my bum look big but gave up when he did his exasperated man face. Furthermore I am beginning to suspect that my mother was either a thief in her past or current life. She has this whole theory about five finger discounts and how it is acceptable so long as you use all five fingers to swipe the items. She get's very passionate about it, alongside the whole joke about if it doesn't have a label then it's free, except that she means it. I haven't gone as far as looking under her bed or in her suitcase but she does have the serious makings of a kleptomaniac.

We went to Primarni, which while I love is a total time sucker, two whole hours we spent in there and that is not including the time lost due to hot flushes, mild panic attacks and arguing over how tall and wide the small people are. I had a strop and said that I didn't care and I was doing everything by size and that if my children refused to conform to the size that they should be based on their age, then that was their problem and not mine. Hubby took a fag break during this particular part of the shopping because he just cannot shop in the same way that my mother does. (To be fair I'm not sure anyone can)

I'd like to say that the shopping trip meant that all of Christmas shopping was complete but that would be a lie, because I got distracted by shiny things and Doctor Who handkerchiefs, mum got distracted by everything and hubby stood and stared at a picture of an Xbox 1 and did his puppy dog face. We did buy a tree in which Hubby got all excited about and quite frankly I wasn't that interested, when it comes to tree's it's like asking me to reverse park... totally not interested.  We eventually made it home and I decided that since it's apparently the month of Christmas tomorrow that I ought to at least make the effort and get the Christmas crap out of the garage

And thus Christmas exploded all over my living room. I was going to tidy it all up before mum got home from work, but the effort of thinking about Christmas just wore me out, so I decided that this year I'm going for a modern art piece and calling this explosion the unmade Christmas (not unlike the famous unmade bed) ... also I am open to offers should anyone want to move this into an art gallery and make me rich as sin. 

Since we had the damn tree, it kind of made sense that it be put up immediately, so as to prevent the inevitable angst that I get myself into over the whole thing, plus putting it up today would apparently beat a shed load of daemons and make me feel proud (my therapist is in for a fantastic week this week!) It didn't but I did allocate the job to the small people, hubby who clearly has sensory issues of his own, decided to buy another set of Christmas lights, despite the fact that he does this every year and now I have enough lights to strangle him with, for the record if I do decided to do this I shall claim to the police that this was his fetish and that he wanted to go out twinkling.

And drum role we have a tree, I have already placed bets that the kitten will have it over by the morning. Now most people assume that I am a total Christmas hating Grinch, this is in fact not true, I love Christmas in that it means being together and spending time with my family, and I love the whole cutesy decorations and the feeling like being a part of something, but I do have a self imposed issues with Christmas Trees, and they genuinely upset me. I can't help it and I have valid reasons, I have worked on this over a number of years but I can't just get up, grow up or deal with it, but this is progress and the earliest the tree has gone up. Now I just have to work towards the next battle of not taking it down on Christmas day when the small people go to bed.

I have in an adult and mature way instead decided to expose myself to tree's via flooding. A friend tried this recently on me, and nearly succeeded aside from my damn stubbornness. Sleeping with a Christmas Tree will do that to a girl. (Get your mind out of the gutter people I am not a Objektophilie) Therefore I am making a WHO tree, which basically involved taking a twig, spraying it blue and covering it in Doctor Who related paraphernalia. I have yet to find out but maybe this will help with my "issues"

Once again I realize I have broken the universal law of turning an angel into an image, but trust me these have been in my house for the best part of two weeks and none of them have snuck up to send me back in time yet, of course if that does happen I won't be able to tell you but Hey Ho. Trust me when I say the tree (per se) is a work in progress but I will naturally be showing it off to it's full glory should I ever actual you know like finish it.

Girl Child had her final scans on Thursday, was quite amusing watching Hubby walking around the hospital in his pajamas, so as not to get magnetized to the MRI machine. Was also amusing watching girl child's disappointment when she realized she wasn't going to stick to things as a result. Nothing doing in that department at the moment though, just got to sit and wait it out, and find out whether Christmas is happening at home or the children's hospital. I am an instant gratification kind of girl so believe me when I say all this waiting is driving me insane.

Rest of the day has been pretty much uneventful, the house is a complete tip and I have assured everyone that I am going to tidy up tomorrow but we all know this is not true. I am now going to drink a shed load of Vodka and post excessive pictures on Facebook before sleeping past 5pm tomorrow :)