Top ten signs your life is an omnishambles

There are some clues about how much I need a week off. Here are my top ten.

1. Missing appointments. Yesterday I forgot my haircut and bookclub.
2. That sad pathetic feeling that life is all a bit too hard.
3. The luggage under my eyes. ‘Bags’ doesn’t cut it as a description anymore.
4. Failure to get excited about champagne saucers.
5. My osteopath giving me 5 out of 10 for the state of my body.
6. Millions of typos in everything I write.
7. Fantasies about someone else making beds, washing clothes and bringing me tea.
8. Reckless disregard for fashion sense.
9. Excessive f-bomb dropping via speakerphone without checking who I am talking to first.
10. Wanting to sleep for one hundred years. With no thought about ever being woken up, ever, let alone by princes.

How can you tell if you need to reset?
What are the early warning signs that you are about to fall over?


Sometimes life is just annoying

It is true that sometimes, I resemble Zorg from the film Fifth Element. Not the evil, world domination parts, but they part that likes control of the domain he occupies, the clean, tidy desk he rests his feet on. As he tells Cornelius ‘Life, which you so nobly serve, come from destruction, disorder and chaos.’ He has clearly never heard of the ‘broken window fallacy’ but I digress.

I like it neat. I like it organised, smooth, well ordered. I like to be on time. I like things to just work. For plans to come together. I have been writing a post about this, but it is taking too long. It is full of huge concepts that I am trying to unpack. Read More

Just cleaned pumpkin off a toy soldier … and other phrases I never thought I’d write

I have learned the past five months to try not to lose my sense of humour. Babies and chaos and mayhem go together.

Reporting for duty

It is important to just put on a clean shirt and solider on! (Of course, that is if you can find a clean shirt.) So while I sponged pumpkin puree off a soft toy soldier, I thought about how I once had a clean life. With Sylvie and I together there was hardly any mess and my cleaner in Sydney would occasionally run out of things to do. Now of course there is mess everywhere, in spite of my efforts to keep the place tidy, if not clean. I remembered also that there were nights at home in Sydney in my clean house with my neat cat, when there was no one there to laugh at my jokes, no one to tease me or share my nice wine. There were times when I needed help and there wasn’t any.

Now of course, I have help, wine and laughter. As well as a son. And pumpkiny toy soldiers.