Pop the cork

Phew. That nasty mist is rising. It’s a terrible thing, it is. Thank you for all the kind words. This bloggy world thing is quite incredible in that way. Pretty amazing really. So, yes, I’m feeling a lot more like myself, thank god. A combination of sleep, love and, I guess, just time, has pushed the monster back into his hole. Long may he stay there.

I have to go over the weekend to do some research for my Other Job, sigh. Over a weekend. It shouldn’t be allowed, weekend work things. Remember the urgent meeting I had to go to last time on a Friday afternoon? This is, well, if it’s possible… worse.

You see, I’m going to have to drag myself and Unwilling Companion (for who wouldn’t be unwilling to do this?) all the way out to an incredibly beautiful, secluded valley in the winelands. Vineyard after vineyard, beautiful old houses surrounded by majestic oaks, frolicking lambkins (maybe too far? I’ll stop there). I know, I know… what a schlep. It gets worse, though.

Once we get there, into that hellish place, we’ll have to be hosted by a rather well known champagne-maker, who will show us around the place, and then force us to taste the five different kinds that they make there. Ugh, doesn’t it sound awful? That’s not the end. We might even be forced to taste some homemade nougat with it.

And then?

Unwilling Companion and I will have to spend the night in a really beautiful old hotel in that breathtaking valley to allow us to quaff on said champagne without worrying about driving. And we will be forced to eat a three course dinner as part of the deal. And… wait for it… breakfast the next morning. Sheesh, the cheek of it.

You can see why I hate my forced outings for the Other Job, can’t you?

Today You are You

I wonder often (perhaps too often) at the nature of people. And, of course, the nature of me. Only every now and again do I take a moment, but like in REALLY take a moment to breathe, and think about who I am. Isn't that wierd? I wonder if I'm alone in that? I usually just blame the busy-ness of everything. There's always something to do, something else to think about, somewhere to go. Maybe that's just avoidance tactics not to face The Truth of it all.

For my Other Job I have to write really cheesey stuff, some of it aimed at mothers with children (yes, I know, it's not something I know all that much about but hell, I was a child, I have a mother, my friends are breeding and... there's Google). It's schmaltzy stuff like how to get your kids away from the TV and into the garden and how to get them to eat their veggies. This month I had to write one on 'Sticking to your story' i.e. being you. I ended the piece with Dr Seuss' wise words: “Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You”. The man is a genius.

That's what got me thinking. About the importance of taking that time out, to breathe, to take a quick peek at where you're going. You know, just to check that you haven't, by mistake, while you weren't looking, done a 180 degree turn and are actually rushing off somewhere you don't really want to go (maybe even... gasp... backwards). It made me realise that I'm neglecting bits of me. This is a good thing.

Isn't acknowledgement the first step? Or is it acceptance? Either way, I'm going to get it. Because nothing and nobody should feel neglected, surely, ever?

A very important meeting

I have a meeting for my Other Job on Friday. At their offices. It's a very important meeting for important people. I received one of those invitation-from-a-calender things for it, for last Friday. You know those things that hang around at the top of your Inbox until they happen, being all important? It irritates me that you can't make them go away without the meeting-calling-person thinking you're not coming anymore. There probably is a way to hide them, but I don't know it. Those calender things are amazing really (if irritating) - gathering everyone together, making a list of who's coming and who's not. I wonder if it makes the agenda and organises the tea too? I'm straying from the point though.

Anyway, the meeting, which included five other (very important) people, was scheduled for last Friday, but I couldn't make it. So it was changed. To this Friday. This made me feel even more important. But, really, who organises a meeting at 3pm on a Friday? At that time of day, on a Friday, people want to clear off all the telephone messages on their desks, open the letters they've been ignoring all week and, well, play Solitaire until it's home time, preferably while drinking a cold beer.

This is a very important meeting though, so I decided I should make an exception, and attend. With the other important people. You see, it’s a meeting where we will be shown how brandy is made and then we’ll be forced to taste 5 – 6 very old, very nice brandies. The memo says we don’t have to swallow though, it’s okay to spit. Mwahahaaa, spit? I have one word for that: wasteful.

I thought I’d invite a friend of mine along to the very important meeting. She’s a very important person too. This was our conversation (approximately):

Shiny: Hello! Do you want to come to a very important meeting with me on Friday afternoon at 3pm?

C: No.

Shiny: It’s a demonstration of brandy production and a tasting of 5 – 6 very old, very nice brandies.

C: Was that 3pm? I’ll meet you at the office at 2:50pm. God forbid we’re late for such an important meeting.

I forgot to tell her she can spit if she wants. Who on god’s green earth, would spit?

Chaos and silent LLL's

Oh-me-oh-my. I have a problem. Really, I do. I'm not being overly-dramatic, I swear. I know I'm prone to that, but this time I'm not crying wolf, no sirree. Let me back up a little, not get ahead of myself in my panic.

So, I've been quieter than normal on this blog, purely because I have been given an awfully large amount of paid writing work. This is great from an economic point-of-view, fun from some of the writing bits point-of-view, daunting from others but, mainly, certainly now, at the beginning of it, all-consuming, timewise. I have to create timelines and themes for consumer stuff for the rest of the year, and costings (my worst) and my first deadline... Tomorrow. Which is why, typically, I am here, waffling (ooo, waffles... yum), the deadline crouched in the corner looking at me reproachfully.

And then... last night, I got home from my Real Job, to begin work on my Other Job, and my Lovely Little Laptop (LLL) blinked her laptop eyes at me, started up and then turned on that annoying battery-low red light, accompanied by it's bleepy little on/off voice. So, of course, being the logical being I am, I plugged it in. No change. In fact, the LLL's bleeps got more urgent (and more irritating) until, with a little sigh, everything went black.

Good timing? Fuck me, I think not. No amount of tinkering helped (I even tried The Pond's laptop's cable, much to the amusement of The BFF - some thing about different outputs? They're both silver, and the plug fits in so, surely, it should work? I swear, The BFF snorted in derision). Apparently not.

So I was up at dawn this morning, getting some Other Job in before Real Work. The BFF is coming over tonight and will look at it. I could see the glint in his eye, even though we were on the phone, as he said: "Open it up, blow out all the dust, reinsert the memory and give it a hug."

Oh-me-oh-my, will that work?