Was I thought gonna be all feeding the ducks. I didn't take into account the fact that working nearly full time and managing a toddler had resulted in an atrocious backlog of domestic duties. Week one of redundancy was catch up with some of the people I've neglected week. Weeks two, less joyously has been the get a grip on money week. I went out and splurged on a fantastic dress for Ailsa's wedding and have since been focusing on less glamourous compensatory tasks like making a table of all my credit cards, with limits, balances, interest rates and transfere deals. Having shifted most of them to a 15 month 0% deal I'll probably over the course of the year pay for the dress, and one similarly fabulous purchased for little sis's birthday, from the interest savings.
Next week is enticing entitled filing week.
My paperwork has recently been assigned to a variety of out of sight places, that haven't resulted in them being out of mind. Every time I go to retrieve Freddie's toybox from the lounge cuboard, clean bedlinen from under the bed or a pen from a number of various baskets, the weight of two years of administrative sluggishness literally falls at my feet.
I'm realising more and more that what seems like a quick fix can so often lead to hours of wasted endeavour. No more trawling through a million pieces of paper to find one stray solicitors letter I'm being chased to respond to, flung hasily in one of a number of hiding places. No, in future I shall look under the house address in question in the giant solicitor file. Just thinking about it makes me want to rename next week 'catch up on sleep week'.
I'm back in the mayhem of house rennovations, supervising builders, planning budgets and designing kitchens. I'm thinking of trying to buy the house next door as my next project, it's rumoured to be coming on the market at some point, is currently empty and by virtue of having my coalbunker where it's front garden should be, has an improvement potential only I could realise. In the meantime I'm getting mine ready to go on the market in spring.
Nicki has had a baby boy and is flush with the joys of motherhood, which I find deeply admirable in the week following a horrible birth and emergency cesearean. In a sign of how much my life has changed I called my friend from the WI and after a personal consultation over her cotton colours, ordered a hand knitted jumper with a pixie hood.
Lou is due any day and Amy is growing into motherhood with aplomb. Our traditional girlie June holiday will, if it happens anytime soon, feature no less than 6 children to five adults, a ratio that doesn't feel entirely right, even to someone as child centred as I'm growing to be.
Thursday, 28 February 2008
Wednesday, 13 February 2008
You can tell, you're getting older
When the shift doesn't seem important any more. I'm heading towards my 36th birthday, it's not a round one, well, not numerically anyway, and I keep forgetting I should organise something properly, with babysitters and the like, because it just doesn't seem important this year.
I've always been the queen of my own birthday parties, but this year, I wanna see Jo Hook play, and I wanted to go to a lecture on Vita Sackville West, but the former is hoarse and may not make it the latter was fully booked, so I'm thinking a stroll along camber sands with my Mum and Freddie will do me just fine.
It's not that I'm over the dressing up box days, god no, just this week I brought one of those grieving widow at the races hats I've always lusted after, all black netting and cool silouette; but I'm just thinking I'm just as happy to wear it in a moment of full on flounciness in my local, as to have it be centre stage of a birthday bash.
It's been mental lately.
Hence the lack of action here.
The test results came back, and Frazer headed to New Zealand. Now he knows he's Dad, he is making something akin to an effort to keep in touch. It's not mindblowing, but his Mum sent Freddie a Christmas pressie which I thought was kind, and I'm gradually elicting a little folder of emails from Dad for Freddie should Frazer not return, or return and not visit.
I'm officially redundant. Been paid a years salary to leave a job I wanted to leave, and can't believe my luck. I nearly didn't apply as I didn't know they had a voluntary redundancy trawl on, got told on the train on the day before the scheme closed. Result.
I've finished training to be a foster mum. It was mindblowing. Tough. I now start the full on psychological assessment process, which I think will be equally as tough but I'm raring to go.
I'm so peeved about Hillary. I think she's gonna lose. And whilst I'm all for the fresh faced rhetorical brilliance of Obama, under different circumstances, I can't help feeling that it will set back women in American politics for a generation. I also think it's just plain unfair that a guy with three years in the senate gets to be the candidate over the most experienced person ever to stand for a first term, seemingly on the basis he isn't her.
xxx
I've always been the queen of my own birthday parties, but this year, I wanna see Jo Hook play, and I wanted to go to a lecture on Vita Sackville West, but the former is hoarse and may not make it the latter was fully booked, so I'm thinking a stroll along camber sands with my Mum and Freddie will do me just fine.
It's not that I'm over the dressing up box days, god no, just this week I brought one of those grieving widow at the races hats I've always lusted after, all black netting and cool silouette; but I'm just thinking I'm just as happy to wear it in a moment of full on flounciness in my local, as to have it be centre stage of a birthday bash.
It's been mental lately.
Hence the lack of action here.
The test results came back, and Frazer headed to New Zealand. Now he knows he's Dad, he is making something akin to an effort to keep in touch. It's not mindblowing, but his Mum sent Freddie a Christmas pressie which I thought was kind, and I'm gradually elicting a little folder of emails from Dad for Freddie should Frazer not return, or return and not visit.
I'm officially redundant. Been paid a years salary to leave a job I wanted to leave, and can't believe my luck. I nearly didn't apply as I didn't know they had a voluntary redundancy trawl on, got told on the train on the day before the scheme closed. Result.
I've finished training to be a foster mum. It was mindblowing. Tough. I now start the full on psychological assessment process, which I think will be equally as tough but I'm raring to go.
I'm so peeved about Hillary. I think she's gonna lose. And whilst I'm all for the fresh faced rhetorical brilliance of Obama, under different circumstances, I can't help feeling that it will set back women in American politics for a generation. I also think it's just plain unfair that a guy with three years in the senate gets to be the candidate over the most experienced person ever to stand for a first term, seemingly on the basis he isn't her.
xxx
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