WHAT A DAY

I have been struggling to get out of bed the last few days, when the alarm goes off the room is still murky with a slight nip in the air, whilst my bed is toasty warm with Americo in it.

Yesterday my alarm buzzed into action and I pressed snooze, once, twice… after that I must have lost consciousness. When I resurfaced, I woke with a feeling of contentment, safe and happy and - WHAT - five minutes before I had to leave the house!

I leapt out of bed, raced to the bathroom, frantically brushing my teeth whilst scouring the cupboard for something to wear. Obviously not something in need of an iron.

Americo meanwhile briefly raised his head to see what all the fuss was about, before pulling the duvet more securely under his chin and mumbling “mm, late too”. Clearly not!

I (just) managed to get my self dressed, dashing out the house in record time, with a vague resemblance to Cruella DeVille - minus the fur.

LATE! But not late enough not to grab a mocha chilla (my new addiction) from the coffee shop.

By now I was seriously late; rushing to the office whilst attempting to juggle my mocha chilla, umbrella and handbag – when my phone rang. It was an employment friend of mine who I wanted to ask a favour of, so I couldn’t exactly rush things.

Eventually I made it into the office only to see that everyone was in the boardroom. Bollocks! Forgot all about the 9 o’clock meeting. Who in their right mind books a meeting for 9am?? Clearly ridiculous morning people! Or the Australian…..

After all the excitement of the morning my day settled into an impression of normality. I say impression as things are not really normal – for instance, I don’t usually have my resume floating about the ether in the hopes of snagging some fabulous job … elsewhere. Anyhow, we do what we need to do, hmm?

By the time 5.30pm rolled by the day had disintegrated, weather wise, with pouring rain and huge puddles. St Pauls, the tube station, was flooded with people, everyone being a little more cautious as umbrellas dripped, creating a slick mess on the floor.

To say I was thankful to be going home would be an understatement. I was thrilled to be almost home; moments from the door I was already creating a list of priorities - out of the rain, out of sopping trousers, into nice hot bath ……….. cigarette.

Propping my umbrella up against the wall I scratched about in my bag for the keys. Hmm? More scrabbling – nothing.

In desperation I emptied the bag onto the front step then sat down next to the upended contents, rolled a cigarette and thought “sod it; I’ve left my keys in the house!”

ALL WORK & NO PLAY...

… Makes Americo a dull boy!

I am beginning to wonder if having a husband is all a figment of my imagination. I seem to recollect getting hitched and standing up in front of the priest. I definitely remember huge amounts of money leaving the account and a big, drunken celebration. But final confirmation has come in the form of documentation substantiating the fact, I am indeed married, and this elusive character goes by the name of …. Americo. The thing is, at the moment he is working such long hours I barely remember what he looks like, I can however report that his secretary is great and we are considering meeting for lunch!!

My Dearest is under so much pressure at the moment he has virtually moved into the office and I am beginning to feel a little like the concierge at a hotel, “Sir your dinner is on the table and fresh underwear in the top draw – no messages except PS. I LOVE YOU”. A good night’s sleep has become a thing of the past and the brief moments I have with my husband are the most precious minutes of my day.

Fear not though, we have held a family Board Meeting and I am lead to believe that the current situation should improve with (HOPEFULLY) immediate effect. All Board Members of HTDS LTD understanding their various roles and responsibilities!!! ;)

In other news I have come to realise that my current relationship with nicotine will be coming to an end. It is with a heavy heart that I admit to this sad loss of faith in a dear companion. Ours has been a long and, dare I say it, enjoyable liaison but, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. So I have set myself a goal to become one of the many quitters …. when we decide to have children! I am viewing this decision in the column of ‘long term goals’. I will, of course, keep you posted on my progress – so far there is nothing to report.

I am sorry, I know that smoking is bad and truly I do not mean to trivialise it however, can a non smoker really understand the total enjoyment you get from having a puff? The sense of being, just a little bit naughty! For me it has become a kind of ritual, a moment in time that is my own. Bad, bad, bad.

Still, the first step to recovery is, I suppose, accepting the inevitable? Any helpful advice welcomed…

TO SMOKE OR .. Not to?

Volley ball – I hope you are all suitably impressed with my dedication to this sport? Lets face it, I am a couch potato and my idea of exercise generally only extends to watching someone else do it.. on TV and not very often! But I am really enjoying my weekly sessions of v.ball in the park, even though my skills don’t quite equal my enthusiasm. Yesterday was the perfect day for out door pursuits, the sun was shining but the blistering heat of earlier had mellowed, and there I was sitting in the park, having a smoke waiting for the activities to begin.

I love times like this, where you are sitting almost in seclusion, enjoying a puff, reading a book and generally feeling smug at being able to block out every other being. That is until I was knocked out of my reverie by a boy of about 12 standing beside me asking for a light. I looked up at him questioning what he wanted my lighter for, he looked back at me and said “to light my smoke” (his eyes adding OBVIOULSY!). Now I realise my hypocrisy when I answered “No” - sure I am sitting there enjoying my smoke whilst simultaneously denying him, his. However, as I explained to him, I cannot, in good conscience let him smoke/start to smoke and be the provider of the fire. Was this boy my child or nephew I would sincerely hope that some adult, faced with the same quandary, would also say no!

When I got home last night I explained to Americo what had happened, he looked at me, raised an eyebrow and said “when exactly did you start smoking?” Bloody typical! “HA” I answered back “Not the point, I had far more sense than asking an adult for a light”. In our poxy little town that would have been the swiftest way to discovery. Anyway, I am not a particularly moralistic person, if I see a group of kids smoking I am unlikely to tell them to stop, but I am not exactly going to encourage them either. Unlike my beloved husband who feels that if they want a light or a cigarette you may as well hand it over - they will just get it from somewhere else anyway….

What utter nonsense, Americo NEVER has a light and he hates sharing his smokes!!!! ;0)