plans, and life

Ah, the new year. I’d be organised. The housework would all be done. I’d understand what everyone was talking about. I’d develop a strategic viewpoint. I’d get niggly things sorted. I’d post on the blog regularly, and plan ahead. I’d know what I was doing.

So, how has it happened that it’s 2.30pm on the second Friday of 2013, and I’m just out of bed? The ironing pile hasn’t been cleared this year. There are notes of meetings to sort. Conference invitations. How do we brief the Minister? Worst of all, the medical insurance review form needs completed if the mortgage is to be paid. (One of those insurance things that are often mis-sold has come in very handy.) That means I need to spend lots of time trying to articulate what I can’t do- always joyful.

Yes indeed people, my head is spinning, but my body isn’t complying. Those meetings that need to be followed up? All that getting there and then doing thinking has worn me out. L and I are still trying to top up our culture with lunch time events which are good for the soul, but bad for the body. My limbs are like lead. Sitting upright is more of a challenge than you might imagine.

My head is busy; if only I could be sure that mean it was working properly. Too often that’s just a spinning fog, so there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to make sense of the 26 questions I have to answer for insurance purposes.

I’m alive and well, and reading your posts. I’m as busy as I can be. I’m recovering. Life is laughing at my plans. Prepare for more fluff and other people articulating my rage better than I ever could. Maybe I could persuade Owen Jones to complete my form?

This the song that’s been in my head for days. I’m not that flexible, and I’m wearing enormous pyjamas in the middle of the afternoon.

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23 thoughts on “plans, and life

  1. If it helps, I have spent all of today day sleeping in bed, in giant pyjamas. I don’t know how that would help you, but I’m believer that all that needs done will get done in our own sweet time.

  2. Pile for ironing. Oh I forgot, your in the UK. No iron here, prefer the disheveled wrinkly uninhibited look. For myself, looking neat and tidy only hides the beautiful imperfect inner being.

    Annnnnnnnnnnnd, debbiereaerea’s ‘done in our own sweet time’ seems a sensible approach.

    1. There is an iron. There is a pile. They rarely meet. I’m more likely these days to grab something from the pile and adopt the disheveled wrinkly look :)

  3. You hit the medical insurance lucky. I watched a program about three people who thought they were covered and that they at least would not have to worry about their mortgages. For different reasons, they were not – had not read the small print. One had a rare disease that was not in the list. Anyway it prepared me for the gentleman who called at the door last year trying to sell medical insurance. I asked if rare diseases were covered. He replied ‘Oh we cover three hundred diseases’. I told him there were 6000 rare diseases; he smiled and walked away. Now I know how to get rid of them.

  4. I was still in my jammies this morning when the door bell went. I was modestly covered so I unlocked and opened the door to find a Toyboy(25) standing there! I brought him in and excused myself. With a sudden rush of energy I got dressed, I think it took one minute flat! Try it. ;)

    1. I think it’s taking me a while to get used to pacing with it- I feel I can do everything, and forget to stop before I get tired! My recovery time is certainly shorter and my brain less fogged. These few days of bed were the first of feeling really quite bad for a while.

  5. God, I hate form-filling. All those tedious mind-numbing details they insist on. Perhaps one day there’ll be a form-filling robot that’ll do the job for us, while we concentrate on the important things like drinking coffee and eating chocolate.

    1. Forms are really soul destroying- these require me to focus on just what I can’t do, when I spend so much time trying to think about what I can actually achieve!

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