Today is the 4-week anniversary of my first day off. Work feels like a distant memory. It’s morphing into a pleasant and hazy past – something that I once did back in the day. About once a week someone tries to get me to come in for an interview or to discuss a job but I have managed to neatly dodge those conversations. I nearly got nasty with my mortgage advisor when he suggested I should get a job now and take time off next year if we really wanted to convert 2 flats into a house. And then LM gave me a look that kind of said ‘yeah, you should get a job’. So I counted to 10 in my head then very calmly and very firmly explained that I was not working this year and I didn’t care if it was practical or not. Thanks very much. LM must know he’s walking a fine line with that look because he’s been texting me all day telling me about the various vegetables and fruit he has eaten. Peas, carrots and grapes. Good boy.
I’m out tonight and I’m going away for 2 days so I fully expect to find him overdosed on beer and meat when I get back.
I really don’t know how I ever used to have time to work. Somehow over the last week my days have been filled with appointments. I’ve been to my GP, the eye doctor, my mortgage advisor and had 3 sessions with my running coach. Next week I go to the sports physician, 3 more sessions with my running coach and am thinking of squeezing in the dentist. Living on the wild side, I am.
On the fun side of life I’ve also spent a day as a guest of the British Fashion Council at London Fashion Week. I was utterly, utterly disappointed that I didn’t see a single set of fine pecs at the men’s catwalk shows. What was the point of going to the men’s day if I’m not going to see some good looking shirtless blokes? Nope, apparently big lumpy knit sweaters and jackets are on trend. And so are skinny men. Sigh. I see enough of that at home. Tonight I’m heading out with the girls to see some sort of comedy/burlesque/circus show. Maybe there’ll be something to perve at there. Here’s hoping!
emilytakesabreak 