It’s the first day back in the real world.

It went well as far as first days go.  Everyone came home with the things they left the house with and there have been no real incidents reported as yet, although Elsie is stressing about a Spanish test tomorrow.  A test tomorrow?  Already, on day two?  Nothing quite like breaking you in gently and that is nothing like it.

I have already been back to work , which it has to be said was a little traumatic.  I love having the Summer off, but it really doesn’t do me any favours.  What was a 3 and a half day week last week, felt like an 8 day one.  Goodness knows what this one will feel like by the time Friday comes around.

I was however, a bit baffled when Tom came home with the contents of his pencil-case in his blazer pockets.  When I questioned as to why they were not in his pencil case he retorted grumpily;  “You put them in a Marvel pencil case, do you want me to get bullied?” To which I replied just as grumpily, “I couldn’t find your plain pencil case, you know the new one I bought you that was in your bedroom two days ago and because you don’t pack your own things and do not care whether or not you even have a pen never mind a full pencil case, I thought a Marvel pencil case would be better than NO pencil case!”

His look of horror at my complete lack of understanding made me realise that I have forgotten what it is like to be a teenager.  I realise I have forgotten how uncool everything is.  How kids pick up on everything, from your pencil-case to the colour of your ruler.  I may as well have sent him in with a pink fluffy one in his eyes, it is just unheard of at the moment to have anything other than a plain pencil case.  As a Mum a pencil case is a pencil case, as a kid it is the key to being the same as everyone else.  To not standing out.  Or committing ‘social suicide’ as Tom put it.

Miraculously though he found his plain pencil case shortly after.

So, she says trying valiantly to remember any other significant events over the last few days that might be worthy of talking about.

If I can remember what happened I will gladly fill you in as we go, but don’t hold your breath, I am a couple of Vodka’s in now so it is unlikely I will remember much and I will probably waffle a tad more than usual to.

Drinking on my own is something I don’t usually do but sometimes you just fancy one and then one turns in to three and before you know it you are ready for a lie down.  I am not quite ready for a lie down but I have no idea if what I am going to write about will make any sense…

I am a terrible drunk.  I am not drunk I should mention that now probably, before I start getting text messages from friends asking if I am ok.   I am ok.  Do not worry.   That makes me wonder if anyone would actually worry?  Now I really do sound like I am drunk.  I promise I am not.  So, if you are worried, don’t be and if you are not worried then really you have no need to be, so it’s fine. Good, I’m glad we cleared that up!

Moving on.

I am a terrible drunk.  Just generally.  I like a drink, I love Vodka it has always been my tipple of choice.  I can’t handle my drink not like I used to (my sister would say I have never been able to, but I strongly disagree!).  In the good old days we would go out three maybe four times a week, dancing, drinking, just generally living life but we could do that and still get on with everyday.  Nowadays I can barely manage three drinks without wanting to take myself to the nearest vets for a lethal injection the following day.

I have always been a silly drunk, by that I mean I just do crazy shit when I have had too much to drink.  I would like to say I have learned not to get to that point any more and at the very sensible age of 46, I no longer do crazy shit when I have had a drink but anyone who saw me at last years Christmas party would beg to differ.  Talking of Christmas parties it is nearly time to organise the next one.  Woo Hoo!  I think I am genuinely the only person who gets excited about the work Christmas party.  I love it.  I love organising it, I love going to it and I love getting drunk at it, until the next morning at least.

There is a life quote that goes something along the lines of.. Sing like no one is listening, dance like no one is watching and so on and so forth.. well that is me, after a few drinks but the trouble is everyone is watching and while they are watching they are laughing their bloody head off.  Stories to dine out on for years.

My friends still tell the story of me trying to leap-frog one of those bollards they have on pedestrianised streets to stop the traffic, after leaving a nightclub one evening.  Only just managing to straddle the bollard, I was swaying dangerously atop my hands, which were firmly wedged under my drunk arse, before toppling forwards and face planting the tarmac below.  The pain only marginally outweighed the embarrassment, at least until I woke the next morning looking like I had been in an alley with Mike Tyson, which it has to be said raised more than a few eyebrows at the job interview I had later that day, needless to say I didn’t get the job.

It has been a very sociable few days since I last blogged.  Thursday we managed to cobble a team together the enter the local pub quiz.  It was great fun, even though we came joint last.  We enjoyed it so much, I think we are going to put ourselves through it every month.  Well it’s an excuse to get out and mingle and it might keep the brain a bit brighter for longer if I can mange to retain any of the information learned.

We have consoled ourselves with the fact that even though we came joint last, with a score of 74 the teams above us had only beaten by a few points, 75 then 79 I think, so all in all not a bad first attempt.  Besides if we are ever going to be quiz champions we can’t give up yet.

On Saturday we had Tom’s start of season BBQ.  Usually, I avoid these things like the plaque but it is getting to the point where I can’t keep saying, No.  I just generally feel uncomfortable at these things.  I hardly know anyone and those I do know I am only on nodding terms with so I just feel like a spare bit to be honest.   I don’t know anything about football and I feel like my neon single mum sign is larger than usual at this kind of thing.  I know this largely reflect my own insecurities but it is so shit feeling so out of your comfort zone that sometimes you just want to avoid it at all costs.

Actually it was fine.  Largely thanks to my other Mum friend, who I forced (quite literally) to come along.  The food was lovely and the weather even lovelier, which lets fact it is all you need at a BBQ.  Sadly lacking a bit of music but with my track record for dancing that is probably not a bad thing.

Then on Friday I had another date with Mr Ivy.  Yes, we are hanging on in there.  I have got to the point where I have lost count of the number of times we have been out now, so that is a positive, right?   I still enjoy his company and while I question whether we are both at the same junction in our lives (I think definitely not, but), I am still fairly happy to go with it for now.  Mr Ivy has ‘stuff’ to deal with and while I am busy, as is he, with life in general, I do not have ‘stuff’ to deal with, this makes it complicated.  Does it?  It’s as complicated as you want it to be I suppose and I do not want it to be complicated.

I know sometimes life has a way of throwing the odd spanner or three in to the mix but where possible I would like for once to have something very uncomplicated.  Is that really too much to ask?

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