To perceive myself as arrogant would hurt

I dreamt about the end of the world last night.  I’ve been doing that a fair bit recently; it must be all those horror films I watch (we watched Mum & Dad at the weekend, which was deliciously disturbing and had nothing to do with the end of the world.)  This goes against my reasoning that dreams are less the by-product of my imagination and more the real lives of other folk. 

(Unless there are some other folk in the world who decide that it’s ok to get bitten by a flesh-eating Undead because it’s easier to join forces with them than have to keep running from them.)

I had just been bitten on the arm when my alarm beeped frantically at me.  For a brief moment I was exceptionally happy that I wasn’t living in a world inhabited by zombie creatures, but then I remembered that today was my first day back at work after the two week (and one day) Christmas break.  Yay!  It took me a while to get up, mainly because Tabatha was sitting on my head and it was all warm and cosy.  She’s taken to doing that just recently, which I usually find quite comforting, but sometimes it’s a little annoying, because she steals my pillows and my neck aches in the morning. 

Pesky pussy.

As today was a training day, we had a lady in to speak to us about stuff we already know.  She has the job I want, minus the having to speak to large groups of people aspect.  To do the sort of thing that she does, I would need to do some more studying, which is a frightening prospect.  I graduated from university in 1997 following five years of study.  Study back then involved copious amounts of alcohol, very late nights and flirting with random strangers.  And I didn’t spend most of the week working.  Still, I’ve found a course with the Open University which is supposed to ease you back into studying (minus the alcohol, very late nights and flirting) and The Blokey has kindly said I can use some of the Tesco Clubcard vouchers to pay for it, so …

I must speak to the lady who came in to speak to us about stuff we already know; I want her to assess me fully.  I’d like, once and for all, to know if I have ADD.  Obviously I won’t get the result I want, but at least I’ll have an answer.  I thought that I had a ridiculously feeble short term memory, but we did a test (one of many that she does) using numbers and it turns out that my very short term memory is excellent (I scored 121 where most people scored the average, which is 100, and only a very few tend to get beyond 115) so I am officially labelling myself a Conundrum. 

I really don’t understand myself most of the time …

please God bless my tired head xxx Elsabeth

A Very British Earthquake.

I woke up this morning, all snuggled up with The Blokey, and remembered the odd dream I’d indulged in during the night.  There had been a huge bang, like some large vehicle crashing into the side of the house.  I recollect jerking upright and squinting through the darkness, but The Blokey wasn’t yet in bed and the bedroom door was shut.  I distinctly remember thinking, in my dream, that The Blokey must have simply dropped something on the landing and so I simply lay my head back on my pillow and drifted back to sleep, in my dream. 

Of course, it wasn’t a dream. 

Yay!  I experienced my very first [noticeable] earthquake!

So, there have been a variety of comments made throughout the day.  There are those folk who are really excited [me], those who never even noticed [The Blokey, who had fallen asleep on the settee whilst watching the tellybox], those who couldn’t care less one way or the other, those who like to scare-monger and those who just look for the negative aspects. 

It’s the latter folk who are the spoilsports.  They grumble about what a non-event it is and they bitch about the way we take little things and turn them into big things.  They spout facts at people, talk about how other countries manage to not get their knickers in a twist over unremarkable acts by Mother Nature and generally belittle the ‘inferior’ people. 

The thing is, it is quite a novel event and that’s why it’s not only newsworthy, but also vaguely exciting in a wow, a new experience way.  I’m never likely to experience an earthquake again – not in this country, and not counting the teeny minor ones we have a hundred or so times a year – and what makes it more novel is that it was so little, so undamaging, and yet so bloody noisy [and I’m about a hundred miles from the epicentre].  Of course, the negative folk are those who also bemoan the way the country grinds to a halt when there’s snow … we don’t know how to deal with snow because we never bloody get it.  For goodness sake. 


Still, the most exciting news event of the month [and one of the only ones which doesn’t involve serial killers] will be tomorrow’s chip paper. And then we can all forget about it for thirty or so years.

This post was going to be about other stuff, mainly my MiL, but as you may have noticed, it isn’t. 


please God bless the trembling earth xxx Elsabeth