Single Sundays

A friend of mine who has been a single mum for a few years refers to Sundays as 'Single Sundays' and now I know why. Whereas before, and if you have read my 'Sunday Sunday' blog you will know this (see- I am testing you), Sundays were once my favourite day of the week as they were relaxing, almost idyllic (if I half squinted)family time. Now I am adjusting to Sundays being very quiet and a bit lonely. I have lots of understanding friends who have invited me for Sunday roast at theirs (I had 3 invites today but have turned them down in favour of some writing time- I knew that if I went along I would just end up drunk which gets me nowhere right now) but this will all get a bit of getting used to. Monday to Friday I'm fine as I am busy with my routine of school runs, work and childcare, but weekends are now a void of light weekend euphoria on Saturdays and bewilderment and fear by Sunday.
Yesterday was the first time that Andy took Sadie overnight. I was very very down so spent half my day wandering the North Laines with Rachael in search of a necklace for her friend (I hate shopping, especially if it's jewellery buying for someone I've never even met- but I wanted to hang onto my good friend like a limpet rather than be on my own) and the other half at Joy and Geoff's eating a delicious stir fry, drinking wine and having a right good moan (as well as discussing Geoff's verruca- is it in fact a corn? Will it get Bazukered?).
This will all take time to adjust to- and I am by no means going back on my decision. You know you have done the right thing when your therapist buys you a congratulatory bunch of flowers. You also know if every time you have a sentimental teary-eyed moment you drop something heavy on your toe, scold your hand or give yourself food poisoning. This spontaneous clumsiness keeps happening every time I get all rose tinted. Is someone trying to tell me something?
Sadie is back in 4 hours- no make that 3- argh I hate losing an hour- so I'm off to write The Book. I wonder how recent events will alter my writing style....
Oh but before I go I must tell you that my one saving grace for Sundays (aside from countless mates offering their support of course)- the new series of 'Pulling' on BBC3 at 9pm- has now been destroyed. Remember at new year (I'm testing you again) when the tv got drenched in smelly fish water after the shelf holding it collapsed? Well the shelf got put back up, and no fish tank went up there, but I thought it safe to put Sadie's tiny sea monkeys on there (revolting things- pet bacteria? eugh) but oh no- the whole thing collapsed again, meaning dead sea monkeys (good riddance I say) and a wet digibox. All the channels are fine EXCEPT for f£$*ing BBC3! Can you believe it- but thank god for BBC iplayer. I will watch it tomorrow...

Soundtrack: Robyn & Kleerup - With Every Heartbeat

Hairy desks and doppelgangers

Work really dragged today. My lovely boss Tim is away spending time with his "babies" (his cats) so there's not much to do. Everyone there is too nice to give me any work to do but I'd rather be busy. I have had to resort to finding mild amusement in the dullest of things. One entertaining thing that has started to happen is that people keep mistaking me for someone else- to the point that they get quite cross with me when I give them blank looks. Right opposite me sits a friendly pharmacist called Sarah.. Thing is we look very similar- same build, shoulder length red hair, blue eyes, similar dress sense, etc, in fact if I look away slightly I could well be facing a mirror, so a few people have got us muddled up. When she's off doing her ward round I get the odd consultant or nurse running in and talking pharmaceutical gibberish to me. And then when I explain I'm not Sarah, but Cathy, a Services PA, they get all flustered and confused, as they think they are going mad as they are sure they just saw me dishing out medication not taking minutes. Ho ho.
Two really gross things happened to me today as well, to break up the day somewhat disgustingly. Whilst eating my hummus sandwich at my desk, I went to sweep the crumbs into my hand and swept a jet black pubic hair off the table (and let's not forget I am a real ginge so this was nothing to do with me). How the hell did that get there? Who has been shagging on my desk? (because this is the obvious reason... especially when you're bored at work). I didn't eat the rest of my sandwich. Then I found these really hilarious pink visors next to my desk and put them on, stood up and said "hey everyone- look at these funny glasses! Who left these here?". One of the nurses solemnly explained that these are protective shades to prevent the splatters from when they are inserting dialysis tubes into people. I wondered what the smears were. That certainly wiped the smile from my face.
I can only hope I have more to do tomorrow or might be tempted to impersonate Sarah and go on a ward round in said eye wear, questioning everyone as to whether they have been rubbing their genitalia on my work space........

My life played out on a comedy show

A friend of mine has kindly set up a freeview box in my flat- I've never had one and have been living off four measly channels forever. Now I am enjoying quiet (and that's quiet not lonely) nights in this is great as I now have BBC3 and BBC4 to indulge in (plus Sadie has Cbeebies so I have a babysitter to hand). Rather fantastically the new series of Pulling started last night- it is brilliant, but at one point was rather like watching a play back of my life as one of the more vivacious female characters (Ok -she's an alcoholic slapper) woke up next to a semi-naked and rather hungover Paul Kay. I once woke up with Paul Kay (and that's Paul NOT Peter) bollock naked (did I mention I slept with Paul Kay? Yes?) and very hungover so this was quite surreal watching his portrayal of a drunken caner trying to get into someone's pants. No need to act much there then Mr Pennis...Oh how I grimmaced and laughed out loud! And oh how i will forever smile and giggle at my very fun debauched encounter with this man all those years ago.
Off for a run with Miss Glazier to break up my day of sorting the flat. I'm splitting all our stuff up and it's sad but therapeutic nevertheless. Sadie has gone to Alfriston to hunt for easter bunnies with her dad. This is a family tradition at Easter but I shall not cry over missing it this year.
Watch last night's Pulling here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/page/item/b009mbfh.shtml?src=ip_potpw

P.S. I WILL get proper links on my blog one day- it just doesn't let me do it yet.....I'm afraid it's copy and paste for now..

Soundtrack: SMiths-Boy With the thorn in his side

Chocolate Reiterations

I don't know whether it's just me becoming more intolerant in my old age, or whether I am just getting worse at judging on gut instincts, but I seem to have had a barrage of rude people in my life over the last couple of years. Yesterday I had the misfortune of meeting up with one of Andy's friends, thinking this would be a nice way to spend the day, and heal over a few burnt bridges. But oh no. What a mistake that was. All this person managed to do was obliterate those bridges into smithereens, only confirming further that I am better off out of it.
Devil's Dyke was braved yesterday with a group of friends and their dogs- Sadie and I nearly blew away and we basically slid down the hill a mile to the Fulking pub (and that was F-U-L-K-I-N-G) for some grub. I treated myself to a pint of Harveys and some mussels. Well a girl's got to wine and dine herself sometimes...
After making spag bol and chocolate cornflake cakes round at Rachael's, which was hightly therapeutic, I went out for a few drinks last night with the lovely Fiona- very nice lady (I do have many great friends too which makes up for the freaks) but the booze wasn't quite hitting the spot so I came home before my night descended into tearful hysteria (it is going to happen at some point, but I'd rather it not in a packed pub with 'Living On A Prayer' blasting out). I have to expect this. I am off to lunch at a friends' today for a drunken afternoon, in hope I will get some elation rather than the other, but i must be wary of alcohol at present.
Sadie has just excitedly rummaged around the flat for her Easter eggs and has eaten most of them, so I expect to see some of them resurfacing shortly. This day could go one way or the other...
Happy Easter everyone!

Soundtrack: Girls Aloud-No Good Advice

Roses and Rain

My lovely, and talented, illustrator friend Joy Gosney, who has been been a very good mate to me over the years and been a tower of strength over these difficult few weeks, has very kindly used Sadie and myself as inspiration for her latest work for the council, who were looking for pictures of people walking for their transport website. I was very touched, and glad she used us, as Sadie and I walk everywhere. I still don't drive, but guess I will have to learn at some point. But what a lovely pic and what a lovely ladee. It cheered me up.
As did Nat who I saw the other day for a quick drink and a moan. SHe inspired me to buy myself some roses. No-one has ever bought me any so I got some for me. They are now wilting but it was good while they lasted. Only problem was I bumped into Andy when I was carrying them so now he thinks I've already bagged myself someone else. I do not move this quickly, but neither did I feel the need to explain myself. I don't have to anymore do I??

Better out than in

I've just realised what a freaky picture I had on yesterday's blog. oh well. I'll keep it there redardless to disturb you all.
This looking after myself thing is not going too well so far. Last night I dropped a heavy china bowl on my big toe and nearly passed out from the pain. I had to down some ibuprofen(having dizzily hobbled to the bathroom cabinet), and lie on the sofa moaning/biting the cushion in agony. I tell you- it was almost as painful as childbirth, and I really know what that feels like having had a natural 30 hour labour! Now I have a black toe and a limp, but nothing nice to show for it.
Later on, I thought I'd force myself to eat something wholesome, and heated up a chicken casserole (you can guess where this is going...) to have with some green veg. It was to be the first healthy thing I'd eaten since the break up (having consumed either nothing or comfort foods since Friday), and had, ironically, been made by Andy last week. Four hours after dinner, I woke up with horrific stomach cramps and consequently spent the early hours with my head down the loo.
So pleasant. And now the third time I've been sick in a week (didn't mention first one- but I puked after reading poems at the school- 24 hour bug or something). My body must be purging itself at the moment or something...
Feeling alright now though. Off to rearrange the flat for further purging....

Boil in the Bed

It's funny (not ha ha funny of course, but then again it's always good to see the humourous side of shit) splitting up with someone, because you become slightly senile- well- I do anyhow. Emotional trauma puts the brain into some kind of shock mode, where you can still function, but you occasionally miss something crucial entirely, like eating for example, or remembering to put the milk in the fridge and not the oven (I did this today). Saturday night, 24 hours after doing the deed, I did my obligatory night of anaesthetising myself with a couple of bottles of rose, crying onto a warm, friendly shoulder and, let's not forget to mention, disco bopping solo at 1am to loud cheesy women's anthems of independence. After head banging my way through a few Franklin and Gaynor numbers, I promptly vomited and passed out.
Having got that necessity of heartache out the way, I'm now on a mission to take care of myself, only last night I nearly burnt myself to death having forgot (soberly) to switch off the pre-heat of the electric blanket. I woke up in the early hours soaked in sweat and thought I'd scolded my entire body, but luckily hadn't and had just gone a bit red.
I'm hoping to get through the rest of the week without doing too much damage to myself. Unfortunatly, I had my NHS ID badge done today, and I look like I've done a few rounds with Mike Tyson my eyes are so puffy. The lady who did my pic said I look like the Mona Lisa (this has bizarrely been said before) only happier.....

Birds Flying High

Sports Relief tomorrow and I think I am going to walk it. Literally. As in- I haven't done much training and I will have to walk as opposed to run.
Oh- and by the way- Andy and I have split up. But it's OK. It was my (painstaking)decision......

Soundtrack: Nina Simone-Feeling Good (although I am tempted, as prompted by Jo Duvet, to put Aretha and the Eurythmics- Sisters are doing it for themselves.... tee hee)
General listening: Franz Ferdinand's fantastic album: You Could Have It So Much Better

I was looking for a job and then I found a job, and heaven knows......ooo I've got that Friday feeling!

My work has turned out to not be the nightmare it once was earlier on in the week and I am slowly seeing the wood for the trees, as it were. My lovely boss Tim even gave me some cake today. Now they never did that at the Guardian. All we'd get there is the strong aroma of cheese wafting through the office as the "goodies" tray was wheeled into Alan Rusbridger's office, to feed whatever VIP was meeting with him that day. When I was pregnant there the smell of Camembert would make me run to the loos and vom. I am preferring the NHS already. Oh and incidentally- those minutes I took on Weds were great, apparantely, so I have blagged my first meeting somehow.And cornering a nurse (oo matron) to get her to give me a glossary of kidney lingo sure helped too. That is now my new motto- if in doubt;grab a nurse.
What's with all the '80s music references in my blog titles? Gosh I am showing my age. And speaking of the '80s (although he died at the beginning of 1980 so they were a '70s band really..) we watched 'Control' yesterday, the Ian Curtis film by Anton Corbijn. Very brilliant, haunting film, and also quite authentic (although I'm sure things weren't THAT old fashioned in the '70s (some props looked more '40s than anything)- or maybe Macclesfield was a bit behind the times- quite likely). Only thing was, and maybe it's because we were watching it in the day, the film dragged a bit, to the point where Andy even said "God I wish he would just get on with it" (meaning top himself). Oh dear... glad they were his words not mine, but I know what he meant. Towards the end it gets quite painful and you do just want Curtis to do it, but it is a film, and in real life I sure wish he hadn't. Very sad. He was a one off, like us all. And so beautiful too...(although, let's face it, if the film is to be believed, he was a bit of a c@*t to his poor wife)
(But how odd for me to have a pic of him under a comment about Friday elation..oh well- it's my blog and I'll juxtapose happiness and misery as much as I like...and anyway- it was bound to continue having made a Smiths lyric cheery in the first place)

Soundtrack: Joy Division-Transmission

Tell me why I don't like Wednesdays.....

My new job is turning into a bit of a nightmare but I'll get through it. Give it a week, I reckon, and I'll be doing the job standing on my head, but for now I have been somewhat thrown in the deep end and am scrambling about in the dark trying to work out what's what. Today I did the minutes for a three hour kidney consultant's meeting and my brain nearly exploded. They may as well have been talking in japanese for all the jargon they used, and me not knowing what was being said, I just wrote it ALL down, all THREE HOURS of it. But at least I did. I'll be typing those minutes up tomorrow exactly as they happened and none of it will make any sense, but hopefully no one will realise I haven't got a f*&@ing clue what they said in that meeting.
Ah it's good to have even more of a reason to drink of an evening. After this day, I leapt off the bus and jumped straight into my local Threshers for some red wine to ease the headache, repetitive strain injury to my writing hand, and confused facial expression.

Headaches and Tsunamis

Christ on a bike- what a day. First morning in my new job and my head is spinning with figures and cost code numbers. I am confused and worried that it will never make sense- it will of course I just can't imagine that yet. Also I have my own bleedin (not liturally of course- well I thought it might confuse you being in a hospital) office which is ace and my boss still seems like a really nice guy. Then, after a 10 minute lunch stop off at home- where I managed one slice of ryvita with peanut butter (thanks for not stocking up house-husband), I headed to Sadie's school. I have just had the pleasure of reading my poems to 90 school children under the age of 6 for an hour. My head is pounding but it went well and one of the teachers wants a copy of one of my poems to keep for herself she likes it so much.
The sea at the end of my road looks like it's about to surge over Brighton like a mini tsunami. I love storms but I will not be running along the seafront tonight, as planned. I would be knocked on the head by some flying pebbles I should imagine, or just made to run sideways like a crab to avoid imbalance. Neither is a good look.
Seen lots of my favourite people lately. Jo and Joe came to stay last week, and then Celine has been to visit this weekend... It's great when you get reminders of what great friends you have. Shame most of them live miles from Brighton, but I guess it means that when I do see them I attempt to devour their greatness entirely, and not take them for granted.

Knock Me Up

Rather bizarrely, my blog is working it's way backwards at the moment, which means to all you wonderful people reading it, and I know you all work at it the wrong way, it will be in the correct chronological order.
The reason for going back over a week ago is that I need to comment on a band I saw the night before our trip to Iceland who somewhat blew my mind and made me go slightly weak at the knees. We had free tickets to see Pete Doherty, who none of us actually like, but thought we'd head along for a laugh. The tickets were £20 to the other punters so we thought maybe it would be worth the tube ride across town to Whitechapel's The Rhythm Factory. On arrival, after having passed the really rude bouncers, I suddenly clocked my younger brother snogging the face off some young thing. He's such a tart. And anyway-what the hell was he doing out at the same seedy venue as me on a school night? Weird coincidence and lovely to bump into him, and once we'd recovered from the shock of how random this was, he informed me he wasn't here to see Pete Doherty, but his friends' band The Knock. After a few beers, the band came on and, unexpectedly- most of my brother's mates are quite straight accountant types so I was a bit worried- they were absolutely blimin great- electro Bowie tunes and amazing stage presence. My friends and I were liturally drooling at the end of their set. I have now been asked to get the band some gigs in Brighton, and I will oblige accordingly. check out their myspace:
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=20471087

Soundtrack: The Knock-Talk

Blog Number 100!! Iceland.......

So- my short but sweet trip to Iceland began this time last week. We touched down on what looked like another planet, or even perhaps heaven, with the fluffy white mountains, bright blue skies and Persil-clean coastline. Although I was only in this surreal Christmas land two nights, having cut my time there short due to the law of sod saying my new job would start in the middle of my booked dates, I still managed to see some of the northern lights, swim in the Blue Lagoon, wander around Reykjavik, buy an Icelandic Yuletide decoration and eat raw puffin. The geysirs, ram's testicles, snowman building and crazy Reykjavik nightlife were sadly missed, but I have decided I'll be revisiting to take Sadie there one Christmas when she's old enough not to complain about the cold or drown in the misty thermal baths. Iceland is a very expensive destination, with house red wine costing us -now you might need to sit down for this- £30 per bottle (!), so some forward planning involving duty free gin and shop-bought bread and cream cheese ensured we still managed to eat and be merry without coming home skint. I even had the hilarious experience of falling into a snow hole, much to the amusement of my travelling pals, Su, Ellie and Roger. We would later hear a similar tale from other tourists, and it seems that I was lucky enough to be able to stand up after this experience and get myself out, as many other not-so-fortunates had to roll sideways to manouvre through the white sludge, causing their companions to wet themselves laughing even further. This being the funniest moment, and thankfully we were on our way to bathe so I defrosted pretty quick, the highlight of the whole weekend was relaxing in the rocky, snowy-edged, warm cloudy waters of the Blue Lagoon as the sun went down, supping an extortionately priced pint of lager (well- it had to be done on the more than one occasion) with my good friends.

Soundtrack: Super Furry Animals-Northern Lites

Death by Lozenge

Do you ever get that feeling that only really cringey things happen to you? You know in the Guardian's Weekend magazine there is a questionnaire for various people, usually people who are lovies, asking them things like 'When were you most happy?', 'What are your worst traits?' .. that sort of thing? Well you know the question where the mag asks them what their most embarrassing moment is, is it just me or, apart from Fergie from Black Eyed Peas who peed herself onstage, are most of their answers pretty tame?.. Some even saying they never have been embarrassed, or have been turned slightly scarlet forgetting their lines in a theatre dress rehearsal. This is NOTHING.
I have had LOADS of embarrassing moments in my life, and what happened to me today will DEFINITELY be in the top 5.
(And by the way- I'll tell you all about Iceland trip shortly...)
I've just started working for the NHS and have just been on an intensive 3-day induction course. I've also recently developed a hacking, chesty cough which doesn't seem to want to go away .. I don't think going to a country which was -3 degrees during the day helped but anyway... So on Monday in our first "lecture", and bear in mind there are about 40 of us all crammed into this room, most of which are nurses, midwives, radiographers etc, not just us admin staff, I got a big coughing fit that went on for some time and was annoying and embarrassing, to the point where the man teaching us about infection control (coincidentally) stopped his talk to pass me a cough lozenge. But this is just the start- get this: I then, "cleverly" I thought, purchased some cough lozenges of my own for the next couple of days, knowing it was likely to occur again. This was all very well, the lozenges did their job, but today, feeling a little more relaxed, when I started my morning spluttering, I popped in a Locket. Only thing was the big fat smooth slidey thing suddenly became wedged in my throat so that I was almost convulsing on the spot like some sort of deranged woman, gargling and making weird wheezing noises. I must have gone bright purple and the sounds were similar something out of 'Gremlins'. And considering I was in a hospital, surrounded by medical staff, it was only the IT girl who came and gave me a huge slap on the back and managed to dislodge it. Oh how the shame. And thankfully, my humourous quips about it afterwards slightly diverted people somewhat from the dick I had made of myself. And oh how I breezed through my presentation that afternoon as nothing was ever going to beat the morning's spectacle in terms of humiliation.
And maybe, just maybe, it was my body's way of reacting to the shock of going back to work... scary stuff this work. It nearly killed me.

Soundtrack: Kaiser Chiefs- Oh My God