grumble

Rubbing it in.

I don’t care what the Miserable Folk [usually, but not always, singles – funny that] say.  There’s something rather nice about your lover buying into the whole commercialism that is Valentine’s Day and allowing some random delivery driver to knock on the door and hand over a big box containing gifts.  And indeed, gifts there were.  Belgian chocolates, a bottle of Champagne and two dozen roses [pink and yellow rather than red, which are so last year]. 

I’m indulging in the chocolates right now, lounging on my bed, semi dressed [I’ve just got out of the shower – I’ve been painting and I needed to scrub paint off parts of my body that paint should never see – I have no idea how it gets there] and struggling with the laptop.  I’ve never blogged from the laptop before.  I’ve never blogged from bed before either, come to think of it.  But my house is a mess and neither of the computers are accessible, hence the laptop with its bloody silly keys and a cursor that has a mind of its own.  I’m not entirely convinced that I enjoy blogging from bed.  I love my computer too much and have no idea how folk can use laptops all the time.

I only have two days of my holiday left.  I shouldn’t grumble really because I know that those of us in education get whinged at due to our extensive amount of holidays [which I don’t actually get paid for mind you] and so many holidays are truly a blessing, but I don’t feel I’ve done anything too relaxing so far this week. What happened to the days when I used to enjoy long lazy lie-ins when I was off work?  Tomorrow I shall complete my painting and begin putting the ‘office’ back together and on Friday I’m having my hair cut, which is a chore I would do without if my hair wasn’t in need of some tender loving care.  Then the first week of the Easter holidays [only six weeks – it’s not a good sign if you’re counting down the days till the next holiday whilst still on holiday, eh?] we’re having a new kitchen fitted so I shall be sharing my days with big burly strangers who expect lots of tea [although where the kettle will live I don’t know]. 

I like Me Time, time where I don’t have to worry about anyone or anything else and I’m just not getting it.

*stamps foot in anger*

Hark at me, the moaning bitch that I am.    I shall eat some more chocolates now and wait patiently for my husband to come home and make me laugh.  We’re off to see Hot Fuzz tonight – I suppose I ought to actually get dressed.

please God make my roses last for yonks xxx Elsabeth