Busy busy busy. It’s like being back at work!
Well, not quite. As it happens, I was at a retirement dinner last week. Nearly seven years after leaving my long-standing place of employment, I re-entered the building where I had worked for so long and excitedly allowed myself to be escorted (yes, I am a guest now and no longer permitted to wander the floors at will) to the top floor where money has clearly been lavished on a rather splendid dining facility with open kitchen, swanky decor and – unchanged, because they were always amazing – fantastic views of the Thames, Tower Bridge, the Tower of London and the rest of the City skyline.
Weirdly, I had a thoroughly wonderful evening and slotted right back in there, despite a few worries on the way there about whether I really wanted to see some of these people. The evening was perhaps enhanced by the knowledge that I could say whatever I liked and would not need to pick up any action points from my conversations, but I genuinely enjoyed the whole thing. It was great to reminisce on various work-trips together and catch up with people’s family updates and some of the workplace gossip.
Of course, my apparent enjoyment could have partly arisen as a result of being incredibly tired, allowing a wine-induced euphoria to carry me through it all. I had, in fact, been awake since 2am (UK time, anyway) in order to travel back from my latest overseas jaunt on an early-morning plane from Athens. As someone pointed out to me – I’m not letting the grass grow under my feet right now. And there are reasons for that, aside from my general determination to keep on keeping on.
Unfortunately, it seems that my transition away from taking one of my migraine-reducing drugs since early summer has reawakened my ageing process. My joints hurt constantly, my hair is falling out and I have days of intense hatred and misery. Bit of a bugger, to be honest.
There I’ve said it. Now it’s real and I will have to do something about it.
And I will do something about it…when I can find the time between
- finalising one concert programme (all my own work this time – I am a Canva Queen now) and
- starting another concert programme (which I am insisting is done by a designer, although I know I could save my choir money by doing it myself for free now I’ve learned how to do it, but I truly don’t think I can take the pressure), and
- learning the music for the next choral concert, and
- spending hours marketing the next choral concert, and
- writing up the notes and action points from my latest Trustee meeting in Derbyshire, and
- going to the theatre to watch several plays I booked months ago when I thought I’d want something to do in the long dark evenings – hahahahahaha, and
- writing up the accounts of my last three overseas trips (I’m soooo behind), and
- handing out fuel vouchers, and
- dressing up and singing in a folk evening, and
- stupidly making proper meals from recipes from time to time, and
- eating Maltesers, and
- replacing various filters in important pieces of household equipment before we poison or choke ourselves, and
- writing a silly blog, and
- panicking that Christmas is coming and the usual guests will be here and it feels as though they only just left (it didn’t feel like that when the evenings were light, but now it’s all dark again it really doesn’t seem more than five minutes since we were at the turning of the last year), and
- eating more Maltesers because I can.
Maltesers are good for the soul – and the joints – and hair-growth – and mood-swings.
I rest my case.
I am too busy to insert photos, and anyway what would I use to illustrate this. But I couldn’t resist putting in this one to show that either (a) all is not lost, or (b) I have actually lost it. You decide.