Groundhog Day....

I'm a bit fed up. No real concrete worthwhile reason - I just am. Life feels a bit groundhog day - in cold wet miserable grey weather that stretches before me as autumn makes a hasty exit and winter blusters in. My life is all about rushing and doing and yet never really achieving anything. Except the need to rush and do all over again.

I miss my carefree spontaneous days when I could be like 'yeah, let's have a drink after work' and 'sure, what time is that movie?' and 'another round - make 'em doubles.' Now my life is all about 'why didn't you get the f**king milk?' and 'didn't you pay the electric bill?' and 'it is your turn to wipe his arse.' Not quite the same.

Don't get me wrong - Sproglet is just brilliant at the moment - gave up his dummy to Santa and has done cold turkey all week. I'd say he cracked his addiction pretty swiftly, bless him. Santa in return has to cough up for a spectacular Buzz Lightyear and a talking Lightening McQueen - I thank you Disney, for getting your mitts on my child so early, and in turn my wallet so tightly.

Everything feels a bit grey. No my Xmas decorations aren't up yet. The thought of writing Xmas cards fills me with dread - where will I get the time for that little nightmare - filled with scrabbling everywhere for addresses and trying to remember who bothered to send you a card last year... Don't even start on the Xmas shopping malarkey - and this year, I can honestly say there is nothing I want. Not in a 'I just want peace for all mankind' mushy kinda way - nope, I just feel a bit over it all - already. Perhaps the shops filled with Xmas overkill from two minutes past Halloween has made me lethargic already.

What do I want? My figure back. To flirt with young boys. Oh yes I want to point out that I have always thought Aaron whatsisface.... Johnson! was hot - even though he be 19 and my work colleagues called me a 'paedo' because of it - and now I am vindicated as he is marrying - yes, MARRYING, Sam Taylor Wood - she be 42!!! Time. Peace. To lie on the sofa and watch an entire box set of Dawson's Creek and not be interrupted. To sleep in. To go to 3 movies in a day. To mooch around shops looking at shoes that I once afforded - nay, were bought for me, from clothing budgets, in my heady presenting days...

Husband and I have barely traded more than 5 words in a week. He was in France - some fancy chateaux to sip Cognac for a few days courtesy of a drink label. Nice. I flew to Belfast with Sproglet who vommed in the cab on the way to the airport. Then I got back and we both have been working like maniacs every since. We only speak to bitch about who should put on a wash. Feck me, it aint glamorous is it?

And even when I had glamour a few weeks back - when I hit some swanky members only clubs in London (Milk and Honey, Bungalow 8) and drank ridiculously expensive cocktails and got smashed, to the extent I danced - alone - in one bar (soooo not a good look) - I was near death's door the next day - boy did I suffer. (Maybe not as much as one friend who also did the 'vomit in the taxi' trick, but not because she gets car sick sadly). I simply can't hold my liquor anymore.

The Xmas bug has yet to bite. Maybe a bout of stressful shopping with Husband through the minefield of Westfield shopping centre will help that along, or send me spinning towards the happy tablets. 2.5 weeks until school is out (well, work) and I get 2 whole weeks off. Naturally I have packed them with seeing folk and charging around the country like a madwoman - trying to squeeze a years worth of social activity into 3 days. See that is what happens when you have no time and a full time job.

Have I said this before somewhere? Yes, I am even boring myself. I'll sign off before I send all readers - all 6 of them - reaching for the gin.

Bah Humbug.