Don’t worry – I’m not someone that goes on about their animals all the time (although do those people actually know they do that??), but at the moment the cats are pretty funny. While we were out of the house they were in a cattery. They have come home with colds. Annoying.
Cat colds are easier for people to tolerate than other people colds. Cats can’t complain or moan, and they don’t lie around any more than usual. The only tell tale sign is the sneezing.
Cat sneezes are hilarious. Until they do it in your face. They don’t cover their mouths, so you get completely sprayed in cat spit. I have had cat spit in my eyes, mouth and ears over the last two days. And it stinks. It’s just not funny at all when the cats sneeze on me. On the other hand, there is nothing funnier than when they do it to other people.
When guests come over I have been lining them up for cat sneezes. Then when it happens I look shocked and scold the cats.
Well, I’ve come out the back of the 21km hell and I’m ALIVE! Yup, I’m pleased to say that I survived my second half marathon. It would be a lie to say that I enjoyed it… and like the first one I did, I have sworn off them for life.
The better news is that we are back in our house. It is looking amazing and everything is new again. Actually – not everything is looking amazing… the garden is embarassing.
You know, as a general rule I think you should smile if you’re not using your face for anything else. It’s good for your mental health, and it makes other people like you!!!
But… there are times when that is just not possible.
For me, one of those times was last month when we came home from a night away to find that a pack of idiots had somehow mistaken our house for their own, assumed they had lost their keys, and broken in through the front window. This is where I get confused… I am not sure what they were thinking when they took EVERYTHING I OWN. There is someone out there watching my new 42″ plasma TV while wearing my underwear. Why would you take someone’s underwear???
Annoyingly, it doesn’t stop there. They took a sledge hammer to the walls and ceiling in an apparent attempt to find the alarm (which was going off at the time). Being idiots (see above), they took out several lights before they found it. For some reason they also needed a washing machine. Now I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong – the underwear was clean. This involved cutting the pipes and flooding the house. We used to love the fact that we have never-ending gas hot water. Not so good when it’s running over your varnished rimu floors and into your bedrooms for 24 hours…. Ouch.
Anyway. End the rant. Things are looking up. Insurance has come to the party, and this weekend we move back into our home. It is newly painted, varnished, alarmed, windowed and generally looking fantastic.
So idiots… if you’re reading this (on my computer…) THANKS. The new colour on the walls is much better.
It is a well documented fact that often when people are diagnosed with some kind of life changing illness, they stop and take stock of what they are all about, often resulting in some kind of behavioural change. That happened to me.
The first time I had a seizure I ignored it. I didn’t tell anyone. I simply fell on the floor in the supermarket and woke up feeling confused. Kind of blurry. Mostly scared. I never did get the apples I was after. The second time it happened I had no choice but to confront it. My face fell in my lunch in a restaurant. I asked my companion if something strange had just happened. I could tell from his face that it had.
Then they started happening often. Only for a few seconds. I would lose consciousness with no warning. Generally this wouldn’t matter, but if I happened to be in a car, or climbing a tree, or standing over a flame, perhaps things wouldn’t be quite so cool.
Anyway, 18 months on, I’ve done my time. No driving for a year, and medication for the rest of my life. I’m over the shock. I’m over the tears. I can laugh at the fact that somehow I broke my brain. I refuse to let it change the way I live my life, or think of myself or my future.
The good thing is that it has made me stand back and take stock of my life. I look at the pity in people’s eyes when they find out about my epilepsy, and I feel guilty. It’s nothing. Not compared to what so many others have to put up with. In fact, the diagnosis was great news. It could have been a brain tumour.
Well, to be more specific, I’ve poisoned myself. I have spent the holiday weekend practically inhaling alcohol. It felt like the first day of summer as well. Aside from the wine, I spent it breaking my ‘no tan lines’ rule. Every other summer I end up looking like I have a white singlet on, even when I’m naked. Usually it doesn’t matter. This year, I’m getting married in February in a strapless dress. Hmmmm… things can only get better.
It was one of those weekends spent away with friends that cause some kind of weird depression when you get back. I think it might be a syndrome. Maybe I should name it. I think it would be appropriate for me to have a syndrome named after the depression you get when you hit the wall after a weekend of partying.
So now I’m back at my desk, looking longingly outside at the sunshine, counting down the hours. Only 7.5 to go.
Not quite as exciting as it may sound at first glance, but hang in there. You’ll never look back! I’m talking about Vibra-Train. This thing rocks!! (Well, kinda shakes really).
You go out and have one too many… you wake up at the normal time and realise there is no way in hell that you’re going to make it to the 6:15 pump class. You know that you’re going to spend the day feeling like crap, and there is nothing better than an exercise session to allay some of that guilt. Vibra-Train. 15 minutes of standing on a platform having the crap vibrated out of you. Don’t be fooled – it hurts, but it’s quick.
And it fixes everything. It shakes away your cellulite, the excess calories you crammed in yesterday, it even vibrates away your osteoporosis! It’s magic. I wish I thought of it.
Anyway, to cut a long story short, I’m a convert. I now spend 45 minutes doing the most ridiculous poses on the thing. They even have great names. The ‘3 minute superman’ is one of my personal favourites.
And I promise you, it works! I’m shrinking before my own eyes.
Give it a go. After all, if it vibrates it’s gotta be good…