Day of Rest, Then Back To The Grind

My brain is finding it very hard to function. I came into work today, mainly because we had a team meeting set up with BlankFace and I knew it would be best to attend. I woke up feeling better than yesterday, but the 90 minute-long meeting has taken its toll. Yesterday, I woke up and knew that going into work would be a bad idea. I waited until after 10am and called Boss Lady as promised. She still sounded a little huffy, even though I quite obviously sounded sick (with the throaty, gravelly man-voice I seem to have acquired courtesy of this cold) and had texted her the evening before just to give her the heads up. Her tone annoyed me slightly, but I tried to ignore it. Big Sis came to use my laptop, so I got up and went to make us a drink and get me some Weetos. While eating, Big Sis chatted to me as she tapped away, until I eventually had to lie down again at about 11am. I fell asleep and didn’t wake up properly until 4pm. Eek! A few weeks ago, we had chosen this evening to invite Bigger Sis round for dinner, mainly because we haven’t seen her since her birthday holiday to Cornwall in July and also because we are all too broke to go out to eat. Big Sis was going to cook dinner, but I had agreed to take care of dessert, so I knew I had to get up.

I managed to wake up enough to clean the bathroom and mop the stairs at Big Sis' request, then popped to the shop to buy the double cream she had forgotten for the dessert. Bro-in-Law prepared the living room and the table, while Big Sis chopped up the mushrooms, onions and garlic for her yummy mushroom risotto. We laughed at each other as we pretended to be TV chefs and gave instructions aloud while we cooked. I was making Eton Mess, the easiest dessert ever, made up of chopped strawberries (and raspberries this time), meringue pieces, whipped cream and a sauce from some of the puréed fruit, all mixed together into a lovely ‘mess.’ I chopped up my berries and then blitzed some of them with the hand blender, adding a bit of brown sugar. The double cream took ages to whip, and we laughed (me somewhat less so) when Big Sis decided to get out our ‘good’ crockery to use and unearthed a forgotten-about electric whisk that could have saved my biceps some work. We used our fancy plates and serving dishes, as well as some nice dessert glasses we found and the big purple wine glasses I bought on sale a whim ages ago because I liked the colour, but have had stored away ever since.

We were expecting Bigger Sis at 7pm and were all salivating as wafts of the finished risotto’s aroma filled the atmosphere. Bigger Sis called at 6.50pm to explain that she was caught up in an irritating delay, so we might be waiting until about 7.45pm. Since I hadn't got around to returning her past few phonecalls, she asked if I was OK and said she had hoped it was just because I was busy and happy. "Well, the busy part's right..." I said, but didn't really explain any further. With everything pretty much ready, we all sat hungrily, watching TV and laughing at each other’s hunger-induced impatience. Bigger Sis finally arrived, armed with two huge bunches of lovely flowers, bottles of wine and a bottle of ginger beer. After putting the flowers in some water, we filled our fancy glasses and then sat around the table to eat. The risotto, accompanied with asparagus, was delicious and really tasty. Dessert time arrived and we all tucked in, having at least two servings each, topped up with extra meringue pieces, un-whipped cream and berry sauce. It was yummy.

We chatted and caught up with each others’ latest, updating each other on work and suchlike and then looking at some of the photos from Cornwall on my laptop. Eventually Bigger Sis had to make moves, so we all walked her to the train station in time for the train at 11pm. We exchanged hugs and blew kisses as the train pulled away, then retreated back to the house, after Big Sis stopped to buy her train ticket for the week. It had been lovely having our first 'proper' dinner party and had been really nice to see Bigger Sis. When we got home, I filled a bowl with hot water and added salt and menthol crystals, then put a towel over my head and the bowl so that I could inhale the vapours and clear the airways. Feeling like I could breathe a little more easily, I got ready for bed and settled down just after getting a text from Bigger Sis at 12.30am to let us know she was home safe.

Next morning, Bro-in-Law knocked at my room just after 8am needing to use my laptop and apologising for waking me up, which I was thankful he did (wake me up, not apologise I mean, lol). I was feeling better than the day before and managed to get up and ready in fairly good time, stopping to get toast at work and still making it into the office before 10am. I am definitely feeling the tiredness now though. Last week, I had arranged to meet Lolly after work today, but we have decided to make it a short one as I am doubting my ability to stay awake past 9pm.

Yesterday, I checked my messenger and had received an offline IM from NY Guy that was two words long: “I’m back.” I resisted the temptation to reply with "What do you want, a medal??" How very arrogant! No “How are you?” or “I’m back in London and wondered if you’d like to meet up?” No. Just two words announcing his arrival, with the arrogant expectation that I would jump for joy and beg him to see me. Whatever. I ignored it. If he wants to see me so badly, he can make more of an effort than typing seven characters on his keyboard. The joke is, a while back, I probably would’ve taken the bait. Now, I’m not really fussed if I see him or not. I almost don’t want to on principle. His air of self-importance irritates me. He always seemed to get on just fine without me, so I’m sure he can survive a while longer.

I left work a little early and went to meet Lolly. I was feeling increasingly more ratty due to a combination of tiredness, inability to breathe sufficiently, hunger and pre-menstrual moodiness. We met in the station and some random dude was playing bagpipes. We both huffed at the assault on our aural faculties, searching our respective bags for pointed implements with which to pop said bagpipes, then sighed with relief when the noise stopped. As we walked to get some food, the playing started again with a vengeance. "Oh, shut up with the bagpipes!" I exclaimed rather too loudly, while throwing my hands up in the air with irritation, "I have a headache!" Only as I virtually shouted this did I notice the various men kitted out in army fatigues and berets, giving out leaflets of some kind and evidently associated with the same bagpipes I had just very audibly cussed. Oops. I suddenly felt a little bit awkward and embarrassed. "OK," I said under my breath, "you fought for us in the war, play all the bagpipes you want." Lolly was still unrepentant. "But they may have fought for our freedom!" I argued, a little facetiously, "I feel bad now." Lolly's argument? "Yes, they fought for our freedom. And I am exercising that freedom by hating their stupid bagpipes." You can't fault that kind of logic.

We bought dirty food at Burger King and I hid in shame as we walked out and back past the camo-clad soldier on the way to the eating area. We found a table upstairs and I embarrassed myself and Lolly further with my disgusting table manners, which I blame on a combination of hunger, trying to eat too fast, trying to talk while eating and being unable to breathe effectively through my nose while my mouth was full of food. We chatted and giggled, but I became increasingly unable to concentrate and had to bail out just after 7.30pm, but not before nipping to M&S for take-out desserts (egg custard tarts and strawberry tarts). I had a few minutes to run for the train, so gave Lolly a rushed hug and ran off, hoping my exertion wouldn't be in vain. On the train, I texted the Mrs, whose call I had missed when having dinner with Lolly. She texted back that she and her boy had read my blog about them and liked it. I felt oddly touched that they had even read it, but happy they liked it. I felt a little bit sad when I remembered how much I liked it when BFTP had read my blogs. I tried to ignore the pangs of loneliness and closed my eyes as the tiredness increased.

I got home and got ready for bed. I made a cup of tea and ate both custard tarts. My appetite seems to have returned with a vengeance and its big scary mother. I had three slices of toast and jam for breakfast, some leftover risotto from last night for lunch, some peach nectar, a plum, an apple, a cheese straw, a couple of cups of tea, half a packet of fruit shortcake biscuits, and a large Whopper meal with coke for dinner. OK, it's not the healthiest of menus, but I'm still hungry!!! I've been looking after my skin a bit better this week, but instead I have been eating like a piggie. It's swings and roundabouts. I'm getting delirious, methinks it's time for bed.