I feel like the universe has decided that I have been lolling about too much recently and it’s decided that it must stop, immediately. I don’t think my feet have touched the ground this week, and it’s now ten o’clock on Sunday night, and I could keep going until the wee, small hours, if I wanted to be completely mad. As it is, I shall put my ever spooling to do list in the bin, and go and have an illicit loll, whilst pointing at something over there for the universe to go and look at.
Monday I went to see the GP. I am, it seems, mildly deficient in vitamin B12, but all will be well as long as I ingest half a cow smeared in Marmite. In between nutritional tips, I chatted to him about my smear test of doom and how two more might be on the horizon and how I have been told by a woman on the internet that if her husband has to have a finger up his bum in the name of science, he gets ketamine.
So what about me? When I get a sommelier’s best cork screw up my hoo ha, I get a: ‘flop your knees to the sides and try to relax.’ It seems hardly fair. Not that I want ketamine. No thanks. Drooling in a puffa jacket at the side of the M25 mistaking the car indicators for some tasty beats by The Orb is something I’d prefer to leave in the past. But gin and valium would be acceptable substitutes.
We have an arrangement now, which means I will only get one smear test of doom and it will be handled by someone who is proficient in tracking down a cervix as elusive as The Scarlet Pimpernel, or my money back.
After that I vaguely remember doing a lot of errands and a lot of work for the patient panel I am now back on, and a lot of work on my very own good self because Boot Camp, and cooking dinner etc etc forever until death.
Tuesday involved going for a massage, which was very good, because I spent the rest of the day working like a dog, and had typist’s elbow by the time I set forth to be manipulated back into a vague approximation of the human form. I had a request for dinner which I was unable to fulfil as we had none of the ingredients to hand. I decided it would take the work of a moment to get them as they were not tricky, and then spent over an hour failing to get any of them and driving to three different supermarkets, one of which had actually closed down. BUGGERIT. We ate at about two in the morning, because once I’ve decided it shall be so, it bloody well will.
Wednesday saw me spending the morning doing more errands and panel work before hurling myself into a shiny outfit and driving to a place called Frolesworth (splendid name. Rolls off the tongue. Looks like Midsummer Murders. Probably bodies everywhere behind all that mellow stonework) for a networking lunch with some lovely ladies.
The snow had melted, the bird was on the wing and la. Except I was driving along some glorious country lanes and realised my car was making an interesting noise. It was sort of like a cross between a ticking and a clunking. As my engine management light has been on for the last six months permanently, it’s hard to tell whether this was urgent or merely a passing fad. I turned Kasabian up very loudly to drown out the noise, and sailed on. It got me there. I lunched. I networked. I clunked home with all four wheels intact, and considered it a victory. I cooked dinner and got Oscar from a playdate and took Tallulah to the theatre and back. AND THEN I DIED, as Oscar used to say.
Thursday saw Jenn coming to do me ‘air. I had another networking lunch followed by a photo shoot and needed to look fly. She did a marvellous job and made me look like a cross between Marilyn Monroe and Tiny Tears. I wanted this look. So don’t panic. She can do others.
I threw on another outfit, and sashayed to lunch. Networking was great, lunch was like eating tramps’ shoes that had been cooking for about a week. There will be words with the chef for next time, thank the lord. Hurtling back in the rain to my car to get home for my photo shoot, I realised I had no umbrella (perpetually lose them) and me lovely ‘air would get wet, so ran erratically around trying to dodge the raindrops. This was not terribly effective.
Then I needed to buy a pair of Marigolds, (more will be revealed later) and ran into Tesco Express. Stood in the queue thinking ‘what’s that smell of old lady cupboards?’ Turns out it was me. My vintage 1950’s grosgrain duster coat smells like old lady cupboards when it gets wet. I styled it out, got in the car and drove home.
The children were holed up in the front room looking terrified. Matt and Clare who were doing the shoot with me, had arrived before me, and the children had forgotten about the shoot, and thought two, timid murderers were lurking on the drive, plucking up the courage to come in and kill them. HA
Once we’d sorted all this out, I spent two hours having the time of my life, dressing up in ridiculous outfits and showing off alarming. I will write about this in more detail next week. After Matt and Clare had gone home, it took me another two hours to put the house back together, and by then I was too knackered to cook so we had fish and chips and I drank gin, because it’s good for what ails me. Then I did some work.
On Friday I had to get up at stupid bloody bastard o’clock to get to the endocrinology department at the hospital for half past eight. The consultant was lovely. I do not have any hideous hormonal or genetic diseases that explain my exploding blood pressure. I was persuaded to try a 48 hour monitoring thing, which I really don’t want to do, but am trying to be brave and vaguely sensible. I await the letter with deep joy.
I did many errands including picking up three pairs of boots from the menders and getting out in under ten minutes. I love Dillip. He’s our local cobbler, and he’s absolutely brilliant, but he talks more than me, and at times I have had to send for help in order to leave the shop, which is why he had three pairs of my boots, because I had to pluck up the courage to go and redeem them.
I took my old lady cupboard coat to the dry cleaner to be redeemed. I did some shopping for stock, and then went and met a lovely friend/client/fellow networking lady. We drank coffee, ate cake and organised our lives and the world. I remember being busy on Friday night. God knows what I was doing, but it was almost certainly stuff and things, and definitely putting some stock on EBay.
Saturday involved ironing, photographing and listing stock. Lunch happened and Jason and the children rescued me and took me out so I didn’t go mad. In the afternoon I fell asleep, but had to get up and go and see a lady about the patient panel, and we talked for so long, when I got out it was dark and there was an inch of snow on my car.
Today I have been ironing, photographing, listing, blogging, doing some patient panel work, helping with homework and cooking keema peas. I still have parcels to wrap for tomorrow and I am so far behind with books to review it will be a miracle if I ever catch up with my commitments. I am currently grinding my teeth in my sleep so hard that my cheeks are a bloody pulp and my next photo shoot may well have to involve a Hannibal Lecter style face mask as fancy ‘air won’t cut it.