I need a holiday

What a week.

It started with an exercise which brought me right back down to earth – the harsh reality, it seems, of running one’s own business, is that you will from time to time spend entire weeks of your life stuffing marketing materials into envelopes. This was not the grand CEO-ness I had imagined for myself. I think I spent somewhere in the region of 8 hours in all folding, stuffing and label-sticking. The outcome will hopefully be some eager new site users, but will almost certainly be a trip to the chiropractor. One thing is for sure – your mind wanders when you have a boring job to do. As I peeled pre-printed sticky address labels from their backing sheet, I found myself in a semi-blissful trance, harking back to the days when I was 10 years old, going to work with my mum the secretary, and playing ‘offices’ with her stationery. What an unexpected, comfortable and delicious memory, which came out of the blue and hugged me like a favourite aunty. I shall (and indeed just have) write it down and keep it safe for the future.

We are moving house. A bit like having a baby, in the beauty of my domestic excitement, I had forgotten how painful this can actually be! We are downsizing, to give me some space to be a mum and run this business without financially suffocating ourselves. All good until the survey came back – the roof appears to be falling off. Not an ideal scenario for a family home containing 2 adults, 4 kids and 4 pets. So now I (since men have a remarkable ability to shun all tasks which may involve conflict or negotiation) am faced with dealing with estimating the cost of repairs and working out whether we can afford to manage this and pay the same purchase price we have already agreed. …..Nuts. Somewhere deep in my psyche I have a problem you see – I would rather suffer loss or pain myself than cause distress to someone else. I really ought to seek help for this, since I have a long and chequered history of ‘screwing myself over’ because I was too afraid to ask. I feel like I am about to enter some kind of battle, for which I must be rehearsed and armoured. Ridiculous. Wish me luck.

Oh yes, and the dogs have both been neutered this week. Tired and sore, and looking at me out of the corner of their eyes the way Mutley used to look at Dastardly – sassan frassan (or am I just imagining that?), they have both taken their punishment well. Typically the boy seems to have come off most lightly. Back, complete with full Mojo within a couple of days, Dandy is still fuelled by testosterone and still jumping all over his sister. Rosie, a sorry lass for 3 or 4 days is now fully ‘on song’ and burrowing her way to China in my vegetable patch (bugger).

The only downside to all this is the apparent impact it seems to have had (backward) on their house training regime. We were so very nearly there – no wee or poop in the house for a couple of weeks (although admittedly the hot weather had kept them outdoors a lot). This week, there have been number 1s and number 2s in every flippin’ room! I resolve to ask the vet for help.

George is going to visit his new school this week, so he’s tense and nervous about that. Pep talks have featured heavily. He is a gregarious, handsome boy, with a great sense of humour, so I have no worries, but he lacks self-confidence, so will require some encouragement and loving this week – my speciality!

And then there was the visit to my cancer-stricken friend. We had a cry and we talked for several hours. What can I say about her but this – I love her, I admire her fortitude, and I think she is amazing. She has been through merry hell and emerged smiling. She has her man beside her (and he has never left it throughout) and she is to marry him later this year in a ceremony which will be all the more poignant for their experiences.

So, that’s why I need a holiday, or a glass of wine. Probably both.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s