The honeymoon period is over.......

After the excitement of the Surrey wedding reception, the days that have followed have been fairly dull and monotonous.   Don’t get me wrong, Phil & I love to party, sing, dance, drink and be very merry with the youngest (and fairest of them) but boy when we do, it takes days to recover. I bode a little fairer than Phil but that’s only to be expected when you think I’m 10 years younger, but hey, anything less than 9 hours sleep, and I’m a waste of space. God knows, how will I fair when I’m back in the swing of full time hours (that is if anyone is brave enough to employ me); how on earth will I cope???

Honest to god, my brain is foggy and it’s difficult to recall just what unexciting events that have occurred so far this week; Phil is still obsessed with the lawn and on finding a bag of lawn feed has been watering our small oblong piece of grass non stop.  I’ve collected the PO box post (x 2), been to the CF flat to chuck out the free papers, encountering the mad neighbour next door (she should really be sectioned); I’ve filled out sent off a couple of job applications, visited the gym a couple of times and generally gone about my business. I have not been idle.  I am not an idle person full stop and if any future employer should accidentally stumble across this blog detailing the futile grumbles and groans of a middle aged woman, then please, don’t believe all you read, you’ve just caught me on an off day. 

Today is Thursday and already I have deviated from the new wonder diet so called lean-cum-mean as featured in the supplement in the Daily Mail magazine last Sunday.  It’s a shame and I am disappointed with myself, especially after Phil went to all the trouble of going out and buying the many and all expensive ingredients on Monday.  The trouble is, on this regime, you can’t have fruit (too much sugar) and my best love of all, potatoes, are banned as well; this is the stumbling block for me as are the breakfasts.  Try as I may, but I simply can’t stomach chicken breast with steamed asparagus sticks for breakfast.  I struggle with breakfast enough as it is. That goes back to my smoking days when breakfast was 5 fags and endless cups of coffee in the garden.  A few berries with a tablespoon of organic low fat yogurt with a sprinkling of linseed seeds is just about bearable (my own diet) but hey, what they call a ‘big lunch’ for breakfast before lunch is difficult to get my head around.

I am a wimp, a lightweight or maybe a failure, probably the latter.  I am not abandoning the Mail on Sunday diet altogether but it’s true to say, I am adapting it.  I am still following the ‘8’ minute exercise which I find bloody difficult but still I am persevering.  I may be a short arse but I don’t have a flexible body, honestly I don’t’, even when I was 11 yrs old and a budding wannabe ballerina.  Even way back then, I couldn’t do a ‘crab shape’.  Well could you????  Phil isn’t flexible either and maybe that’s why we are compatible, connected someway in our un-bendy bodies: Okay just a theory. Our best move (together) is lying vertical on the reclining sofas in front of the telly with a glass of something cold in hand!  I have to say that Phil is far better at this than moi. I crouch, I squat, I resist pressing the reclining button until the very last, than I surrender, ease back, and life, all of a sudden is so much better!  Then I immediately fall asleep and start snoring!

The truth be told, I am not all that impressed with my DH at the moment.  Before I start my rant, I have to say I’m not perfect (no way hosai) and if he, my DH that is, wants to retaliate than he can; after all, he is a joint author of this blog (my blog) and I won’t stand in his way even if he wants (or is that dares?) to air his woes!  NO, honestly I won’t, but if it’s damming, at the very least I may edit and if’s real bad, I may just delete him (temporarily) as an author.  See, at least I’m honest!   Goodness, I really wish I didn’t have to moan and nag so much.  Harriet is always saying to me “take a chill pill mum”, and well, believe me I would, if only there was such a thing on the market.

This is a girlie moan, so any guys reading this blog, skip the next paragraph. One thing of many daily gripes is Phil’s inability to put stuff in the dishwasher.  Despite my protests, he persists on leaving his knives, forks, plates, saucepans by the side of the dishwasher or otherwise he dumps them in the washing up bowl. Several times a day I have to dip my hand into the washing bowl full of cold, murky water to fish them out them (reluctantly, always reluctantly) and sling the offending items noisily in to the dishwasher.  Why oh why, he can’t just simply put the dirty dishes straight into the dishwasher wracks is beyond me.

My other gripe with Phil is his inability to listen to anything I say and lodge it in his brain.  And it is an intelligent brain, as he so often reminds me, more intelligent than mine. An example I hear you ask? well here is one, on Monday I told Phil that I was going out to see a girlfriend and on Tuesday evening, I said “okay honey, I’m off, see you later”.  He said “whoa baby where you going?” and I replied “grumpy old man, have you got senile dementia, I told you last night”.  I’ll spare you the rest of the conversation, but you get the gist, I think whilst a man has hold of a remote control they cannot hold a conversation, let alone recall one.

Realising that Phil doesn’t listen to a thing I say, I have taken to emailing him a list. Yeah you guessed right, a list of ‘things to do’. Now, you may laugh, but I’m at my wits end.  My email to Phil earlier this week was a serious one, sent with bold headings and bullet points, formatted to perfection.  How more serious can you can get??   I was careful of my tone because after all, I wanted action and didn’t want to piss him off.  I thought I’d achieved this but despite the seriousness and tactful tone of my email, my DH still chooses to ignore me but believe me, he does so at his peril !

Actually this morning I have to eat humble pie and retract the paragraph above.  I have come out in a cold so last night I took a couple of Night Nurse Capsules before I went to bed. These made me sleep like a baby, but I had a real foggy, fuzzy head and struggled to get out of bed this morning.  But what a surprise, when I finally made it downstairs, Phil had cleared all the paperwork from the table in the conservatory, sorted out the PAYE and even applied for a couple of jobs.  Result!  So you may mock me for my email but just goes to show that it works, even if it did take a few days.  I got there in the end!

I could do without having this head cold, I still have 2 applications to complete before the end of play tomorrow and some other important paperwork that require clear thought and attention to detail.   I managed to get to David Lloyd for a swim yesterday but I wasn’t up to doing a circuit in the gym.  Phil is out to lunch with Steve today, he really doesn’t care much for the diet food in the fridge and I can’t really say I blame him.   He’s going to complain like crazy when he’s reads today’s posting but in the event of anything else to talk about, I can always something to say about Phil!