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The Day I Was Still Here

on Apr 1, 2015

There was a writer here. She’s gone now. Or: she was. Temporarily. I’m back now, though. Did you miss me?

The Day We Should Never Forget

on Jan 27, 2015

The Day We Should Never Forget

The Day With The Surprise Revelations

on Jan 26, 2015

Today was quiet; low-key. I made it into work, and even did some work, but I can’t say that I wasn’t delighted when the clock struck four and I was able to duck out. My sore bits still throb, and all I wanted was a hot water bottle, pyjamas and someone to mainline Yorkshire Tea for me. I did tackle my tax self-assessment however, which I’d been procrastinating over since before Christmas. Every year it terrifies me, and again – for some reason I cannot fathom – I’ve got a rebate of several hundred pounds. Last year it was several thousand, which was freakin’ amazing, and helped pay for our holiday last year. This year’s surprise refund will also go towards the vacation fund, though unless M can secure himself some overtime, I’m not entirely sure it’ll be enough to get us to foreign shores again. We’ll see, though. Each...

The Day With The Tea and Sympathy

on Jan 25, 2015

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I’ve forgotten all about you, haven’t you? I haven’t, though. Honest. Last couple of weeks have been a smorgasbord of stuff that include dismantling an old bed to replace it with a new (as well as assembling new bedside tables, table lamps, wardrobe sorting and also the putting-together-of a new shoe cupboard thing) and an intense work schedule, so the time I usually blog with – my lunch hour, or sometimes pre-bedtime – has been AWOL. I also had a scheduled gynae procedure on Friday to help continue manage my Endometriosis, and that didn’t quite go as planned, so I’ve been in bed for two days on bedrest. I felt awful. Like: it’s amazing how quickly your body forgets real pain, but then it’s also amazing how quickly you remember it, too. The gentle rocking back and fore to...

Protected: The Day With Not Growing Up

on Jan 14, 2015

The post here is protected, probably because I’m ranting about something (read: someone) in my life and am trying to spare feelings. You don’t have to miss out, though. Providing we’re somewhat acquainted (but don’t share DNA), you can ask for the password via my contact page!

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