Archive for May, 2008

I can’t get no sleep

I can’t sleep so I’m going to blog, and it’s about time too.

Admittedly I have only been lying in the dark for about four minutes, but my mind is a hive of thoughts zipping about like my ex-colleagues on the dodgems at last year’s Christmas party.

What are all these thoughts?  I have had a relatively satisfying and productive day so nothing immediate is bothering me.  I had a once-in-a-lifetime positive phone call to a mobile phone provider (yes, really), I cooked up a massive batch of chili con carne for my party next week (using chocolate and ginger.  Some call me a pioneer in mass catering), I baked a carrot cake for work (a birthday tradition to which I must adhere), I created a top-notch playlist for the afore mentioned party, I finished my costume, I had a nostalgic giggle on the phone with a friend and old work-mate who reminded me about the cleaning lady who did (and probably still does) take her shoes of the minute she got in to the office, and I won £5 on a scratch card!  So why am I still lying in bed buzzing when I ought to be in a deep, contented slumber?

Who knows?  Maybe it’s the excitement of birthday celebrations.  I am in the twilight of my early twenties, teetering on the brink of a quarter of a century – quite an achievement.  That is probably it, I do like birthdays.  But then inane little thoughts pop into my head too.  I remember the irritating chat of my hairdresser last week, who insisted on recounting her weekend to me drink-by-drink, pissed embarrassment-after-pissed embarrassment, while all I could do was nod politely and tell her (in my best ‘I’m not posh’ voice) how I was going to dinner in Henley that evening.  I don’t think she bought my ‘edgy Reading girl’ act.

It’s funny the things that keep one (me) awake sometimes – did I put my p45 in my handbag ready for work tomorrow?  What did I really think of the Simon Amstell stand-up gig I went to two weeks ago? Do I think 1,000,000 vats of chili will feed 20 and is six bottles of red and five bottles of white enough?  Should I have bought more beer?  Maybe I ought to have added Justin Timberlake to my playlist, or would that have been one cheesy song too far? Do I need the loo or can I make it through the night?

No doubt I’ll spend the next 20 minutes agonising over this, the crappest entry I’ve written so far, wondering ‘should I take it down or would that be defeating the point of my blogging?’  I might even need to resort to my trusty fall-asleep method of picking a theme and finding something within it to match every letter of the alphabet – I think I might chose African mammals tonight…or maybe drinks consumed by my hairdresser last weekend would be better, it’d probably be easier…



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I ♥ Doug

Yes, it’s true, I am in love with Douglas.  Thankfully Douglas is not another man, it is a town and, therefore, less likely to disappoint.  And it’s a nice town at that.  Before I was sent to ‘The Island’ for training (I secretly did hope they’d perform a tribal dance on my arrival and light signal beacons to announce the news), I openly admit that in my mind the Isle of Man may as well have been near the Isles of Scilly, but low and behold, it was a 1hr 20min flight and it was near Liverpool! Bloody hell, this was going to be some work trip.

Flying in to the runway on the small, rickety plane, barely skimming the waves, I knew I was on to a good thing.  The (admittedly slightly disturbing) three-legged flag fluttered in the evening breeze as I was taxied to my harbour-front hotel.  The sun shone, the people smiled, the wine bars opened and I knew I had to return.  Long live Douglas – I shall remember you fondly until we meet again (at the end of the month when I return to your sweet bosom for the TT race).  My quest to see more of my local land has begun.

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