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Last look back, I promise!

July-December: July came and brought me pneumonia! I didn’t just inherit my Grandma’s cheekbones and youthful looking skin, I got her bloody chronically weak chest too (hidden behind a fantastic pair of bazoomas even if I do say so myself!) but I soldiered on heroically, I then got the letter confirming I was surplus to requirements (it actually said that in writing!)the day before I went away on holiday, talk about a kick in the teeth from the lizard-faced incompetent with the freakish neck.

So off we went to Mexico and I tried to put it to the back of my mind. The beautiful Mexican sun as well as time with my two beloved men warmed my soul and healed my chest. The country and people were as wonderful and beautiful as ever and I tried my hardest to be positive I really did but I could feel it looming, that menacing dragon was gathering her strength and feeding on the pain I was trying desperately to hide.

We came back from Mexico and the depression hit me like a spade in the face. I literally felt like one of those cartoon characters you see with all of the stuffing knocked out of them and it took every ounce of my strength to fight it, but fight it I did – it was either that or end up in a mental ward wearing clashing patterns and letting my hair go grey, soooo not my style dahling!

So, I jumpedon the “searching for a job”train. I was very lucky, I got an interview for the first job I applied for. It was almost exactly what I was already doing and looked to be tailor made for me! Except the person who wrote the job description must have been at the sherry…

I arrived for the interview nervous but quietly confident. Pleasantries were exchanged etc then followed the most excruciating, arse-clenchingly awful 30 minutes of my life. It became very clear, very quickly that the job description had no bearing at all on the actual job and I sat like a rabbit in the headlights trying to answer questions that might as well have been asked in Korean for the sense they made. I should have stopped it there and then. I should have had the balls to say that there had been a mistake but no, the misery continued with me wanting to ram my whole fist into my mouth rather than spout any more of the drivel I was coming out with!! Needless to say, I didn’t get the job – I wouldn’t have taken it if they’d offered it – there’s no way I’d work for an organisation who’d employ the babbling idiot I’d presented myself as!

I managed to get over the crippling shame and embarrassment with the help of my lovely friend DerekBee who set about sending me voice messages of hugely inappropriate answers to interview questions, which we both found hilarious (you had to be there I suppose).

I then got another interview for a really interesting job and I had a really interesting journey to that particular interview – see my post entitled “it-could-only-happen to me”

It’s now nearly the end of the year and my humongous chest has let me down again. Pleurisy this time which ended up with a Boxing Day visit to A&E begging an Eastern European doctor for strong drugs! So Christmas was a little subdued to say the least but it’s still been nice – if you like that sort of thing. I’m not a Christmas fan, never have been. In fact when I was single and lived alone I steadfastly ignored it! Now I have my family it’s not really acceptable to do that and I tried making a fist of it when Child was younger and still try my best to be festive and hide my Grinchyness!

Hmmm, that’s about it really, not desperately exciting, definite highs and lows. Thank you very much for reading my blog this year – it’s really nice to be indulged! I’ve loved writing it and if I wasn’t such a lazy cow I would have written more often. I could make it my New Year’s resolution to do so but I’m not big on those either!

So, adios 2013, I’ve had better years but I’ve also had worse; come on then 2014 let’s see what you’re made of…..Now, where did I put that Weightwatchers leaflet?….

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A retrospective to bore you rigid!

As I am confined to my sickbed (sad face) with a bout of pleurisy that has wrecked my Christmas, I thought it would be nice to have a look back at my year….indulge me, I’m bedridden here!

January-March: These months were mostly taken up with my annual traipse to a slimming club. Sxxxxxing Wxxxd was the club of choice this year. I found the format and the leader to be toe-curlingly hideous – sitting in a circle applauding someone for losing half a pound or commiserating (and applauding, strangely) a poor sinner who had succumbed to a roast potato was definitely not for me. I did, however, find solace every week listening to people’s hilarious attempts to make faux fast food -ie: pizza and KFC – using dried potato granules! Yep, Smash is king in the land of the slimmer, and you really haven’t lived until you’ve tried a pizza with a Smash base – and it is every bit as vomit inducing as it sounds!! I did lose a stone though…but the pizza/smash combo had nothing to do with it!

Work was going well, I’d settled into my new job and even though I only started in October I felt a part of the team and absolutely loved it. I was working in a school, my dream job with hours to die for. I couldn’t have asked for anything more on the job front.

Home life rumbled along, as it does…Child continually testing my patience as the testosterone worked it’s magic – seeing the smug grin on my mum’s face as she sees payback in all it’s glory is slightly disconcerting! Although it’s not all bad, sometimes his real persona makes its way through the swamp of puberty and he is a joy to have around, my funny, handsome, kind little man who I love unconditionally despite the testing teenage strops!! He has settled into “big school” now and is doing really well. We are trying to cope with husband being away for 4 weeks and home for 2 but I don’t think we will ever get used to or enjoy it, it’s just something we have to endure and it’s not a natural state of affairs – I defy anyone to enjoy having their parter away for such a stretch or indeed enjoy having them home 24/7 for a fortnight!

We booked our summer holiday in January, 2 weeks in July ( I couldn’t go in term time with my new job) to Riviera Maya, Mexico, of course, we tried to resist the pull but just couldn’t do it! We even decided to go back to the same hotel because we enjoyed it so much last year, I was a little wary of doing this but lost out to the majority – we are a very democratic family! At least the thought of the beautiful beaches and warm Caribbean Sea helped to make winter a little more bearable for SAD old me!

More to follow, I’m ill y’know…..

Hypochondriac? Moi?

I’m not well.

That’s a fairly innocuous statement which doesn’t convey the drama surrounding any illness that dares invade the temple (ok, slightly crumbling medieval church) that is my body.

You see, dear reader, my name is Beebee and I am a Hypochondriac.

So, the common cold which visits all of us fairly frequently, tends to result in me taking to my bed, iPad in hand (to google my symptoms, silly) convinced that I am the first confirmed case of a particularly virulent strain of a new human-race ending virus.

I don’t know why I’m like this – it’s certainly not for attention, when I was a child my mother was particularly horrible to us when we were ill and anything short of the Black Death was treated with scorn. My husband is the same really, he’s not big on sympathy and just mutters “go see the doctor” regardless of whether I’ve broken a nail or a limb. He might bring me the odd paracetamol accompanied by a saintly expression but that’s about it.

So, at the moment I am suffering from a hacking cough, a high temperature and weird electric shock-type pains in my arm. But these symptoms are multiplied tenfold if you add in the anxiety that befalls me at the first sign of illness.

I’ve googled Ebola and its not that (I’m not bleeding from my eyes), but I haven’t ruled out typhoid, beri-beri or multiple sclerosis.

I also feel particularly martyr-like as Husband is away so I’ve had to carry on regardless with no support. Child and Dog couldn’t give a stuff if I’m ill as long as they are fed and watered. Child has inherited his Grandma and Father’s disdain of me being ill although he did weaken for a second and brought me some cough medicine (he probably couldn’t hear the telly).

So, I’m struggling on (wo)manfully, I’ve been to work but didn’t do anything except cough, sigh, and rub my temples. All my colleagues are men so they obviously didn’t notice a thing. I tried ringing Husband in the hope of some sympathy but just got told off for ringing him at work. Child came home full of hormones and sulk and Dog just carried on being stupid and doggish. But two of my lovely girlfriends texted seeing if I needed anything and my dad rang to see how I was, so at least SOME people care. They’ll all be sorry when I’m carted off to a government lab in the middle of the night….

How do single parents do it? Really, I’m serious. How do they carry on day in day out, 24/7, illness or not? These people must be made of iron-encrusted titanium. Forget the SAS, our country should have single parents as a defence force cos they make The Terminator (and me)look like a right pussy.

Single parents everywhere, I salute you. You’re bloody brilliant.

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