Working Man

It's official, I am disgusting. 

Last night after acknowledging my body was in need of a good scrub, I somehow managed to slink in to bed without one.  It was more Channel 4's fault than my own as Desperate Housewives was due to start at nine and, being a programme I hate to miss, I planned to watch it then wash afterwards.  But the bed monster got me well and truly into his clutches (the real bed monster that is, not Chris) and I couldn't extract myself until today. 

The good news is that waking up smelly prompted me to do my exercise first thing so that I only had to bathe once.  As I am writing this I realise quite how revolting and dirty it all sounds.  Maybe I should go change my sheets.

Even more good news is that Chris has been offered a job.  I can't tell you how amazed I am.  For those of you who know us well, you'll understand how incredible this is in terms of progress.  Chris has journeyed from being almost certainly dead, to certainly in a permanent vegetative state, to certainly seriously impaired, to certainly won't be able to work again to certainly has got a job so there!  I can't fault the Doctors for getting it wrong....they themselves admit where the brain is concerned there really are no absolutes, and Chris always did have one of the most complex brains I've ever had the pleasure of loving.  He is a little bit disheartened because his salary is less now than when he first graduated twelve years ago, but personally, for me, it is not about the money.  We may not be any better off financially but mentally and emotionally this could be the boost he needs to get back in the game.  Or on the game if it doesn't work out.

Further good news is I passed my exam.  Got an email today informing me, which was rather a quick turnaround I thought.  Not as good a result as the last one, but I knew that already as I had proffered some rather vague responses to a question or two - but it's all done and dusted and can now fade in to the outskirts of my memory somewhat like a bad dream.

Talking of which I had the worst dream ever last night.  So twisted I wouldn't even dare to tell you the detail.  I am hoping again that I am not alone in having such nightmares - the kind of dreams where you have done something absolutely awful, not just distasteful, dishonest or a little mean,  I'm talking super-illegal, super-immoral, super-going-to-rot-in-hell-for-eternity type bad.   I was so so relieved to wake up I nearly cried.  I often have traumatic dreams I must say, usually though it is I who am the victim, but in this it was me being evil and that was so much worse.  Am I freaking you all out??.  I promise I shan't harm you, honestly. 

Anyway I am meant to be keeping this entry light and cheery today.  My sister in law, who shall remain nameless, called me earlier to say that my blog bothers her because it's rarely happy.  What really bothers her of course is that it's usually her brother I am whining about!!  So I promised her a Pollyanna type episode where everything comes out smelling of roses.   It's not that easy though seeing only the positive things in your life; infact just the other day Corrinna was telling me that humans are fundamentally programmed to store and retrieve negative events above all else.  It's a primary source of our survival mechanism.  For instance:- we get bitten by a dog, we remember dogs can bite, we take care around dogs;  we get hit by a car, we learn that cars are dangerous, we take care around cars (unless of course we are dead) etc etc.  I would however question this ability in women......how else can you explain why we continue to have more babies, trust in men, and wear high heels to work?  I think the only negatives we females are programmed to remember are those relating to misdeeds performed by our other half,  this is so that we can recall them at opportune moments, i.e. when we are after something.

So what else can I be upbeat about???   Oooh Valentines is nearly here.  That's always a nice day.  I remember when I was young and at School (before i stopped going) Valentine's was a major event.  One year I got seven cards.....SEVEN cards....and none of them from my mum.  Either I was popular back then or I had a serious stalker.  That was such a good feeling, and boosted my confidence no end, at least for that day anyway.  Which is why I have bought both my boys a card and told them if they don't actually want to give it to anyone because they 'fancy' them, they should think of a nice girl they can give it to who may need a little boost.  Someone who is shy or less popular perhaps.  (Suddenly I wonder whether my seven valentines had mother's just like me).    Euan went through all the girls in his tutor group, describing them in fine detail, and all I can say is he either exaggerates profoundly or his class are the cast from 'cirque du freak'.   Danny said he would send his to Eva his cousin, to which I said "ok, but isn't there anyone else you like?" ......and he replied "Brandon".   At what point should I begin to panic??

Going to try and have a jog again tomorrow.  Did a spot of cross training today but even that had my foot hurting, so I decided to go in to the living room and just dance.  Had the ipod shuffle on full blast and went wild.  It was so liberating and I worked up a sweat without even feeling like I was trying.  Am very relieved that I live in the end of a Close though.  Our neighbours are all rather elderly and the sight of me hurling myself around the living room like an over-inflated member of Flashdance may have finished them off.

Talking of off...best be going that way myself.

x x x x