Monday, 5 January 2009


It is absoutely imperative that I leave the house tomorrow. I think I have entered some kind of dismal pre-hibernation phase (though obviously without the fasting, and do not check my ears for unpleasant discharge and flatness or I will punch you).

Fucking January. You have no point. You are just here to torture me. Do not come telling me all about your amazing sales. I do not wish to know about YSL Tribute shoes reduced from €900 to €100, thank you Paris Colleague. I do not have €100 and the CFO has hidden all the money in a new set of paranoid arrangements. This "snow" business is quite aesthetically pleasing, yes, but it dampens my thought processes even more than the usual grey Brussels drizzle. Other than these poor offerings, what is in it for me, January? Nothing. The opportunity to lay down an extra layer of cellulite and disappear under a mass of dirty laundry, most of which I am wearing simultaneously.

In short, I am becoming the most fucking boring person in the world. I have spent today sitting dead eyed in front of my screen, trying to fathom the tiny Skinny McStupid dog and its tiny brain, failing and wiping up its shit, staring into space and thinking about my many imminent deadlines without doing anything about them. Sometimes, for kicks, I go and have a slice of Christmas cake with Skinny McStupid attached to my ankles by the teeth. Thus has the day passed, like a week of Belgian Sundays.

And now, it is 6pm and the CFO will be back shortly, expecting to be back in the 1950s with, you know, a warm, clean house, hot food and clean stuff; children with homework done and new plasters on their stitched up chins, and quietly engaged in improving pursuits instead of rolling Skinny McStupid in a urine stained coat in the wreckage of the house and allowing it to nibble their stitches. And more importantly when he gets here, the keyboard turns into a pumpkin and blogging is outlawed.

Is this the shape of things to come? How on earth am I going to entertain you with my new part-time existence if it leaves me flaccid and brainless? I resolve to do better tomorrow, but have had to hand my duties over to Tortank for tonight.

He has more to say than I do, and he's spent the last 6 weeks in the crisper drawer of the fridge. It's that bad.


Red Shoes said...

Oh, darling. Welcome to my world.

hairyfarmerfamily said...

I have shown Tortank's photo to Marina, and she is totally up for it. I can hear her giggling in a frenzy of teenage lust. She's a bit young still, but in a few years, would Tortank like to make a stud trip to the UK?

My word verification is Dogged. Nice!

Iheartfashion said...

I feel you.
I've been sitting slack-jawed in front of my screen today, accomplishing nothing. And since my husband is unemployed, there are two of us!

lisa in san diego said...

gah. i have struggled with two solid weeks of writer's block, and i HAVE TO GET THIS FUCKING BRIEF WRITTEN BY FRIDAY. i'm losing my mind. also i'm sick. january sucks. right there with you.

justme said...

Ah. I think the root of this problem is this silly ban on your playtime on the internets. So unreasonable! And BOUND to cause you stress!

Pochyemu said...

Yaaaayyyy! I'm not the only one living a slovenly, part time existance! I decided not to work outside of uni this year in order to concentrate on my studies, but this has turned out to mean my life is more unstructured, non-functioning and unproductive than you know, I only get dressed properly 3 times a week.

In a bid to not get sucked into my normal pattern of leaving the house as often as I get dressed (see above) and to bring in a schedule, I've started classes at my gym in yoga, pilates and spin. So far it's fun, I'm sore, and I get to interact with someone other than my you see how your life might reflect mine if you don't do something about it straight away??! Trust me on this one!

P said...

January is why people drink excessively. I think I am going to take up drinking excessively, as my life has become joyless due to the Period of Austerity, in which all delightful pursuits (smoking, shopping, and eating) have been banned. Let's start day drinking.

Potty Mummy said...

Is the love affair with the wheepette over then?

katyboo1 said...

Sadly I could have warned you about the propensity of Oscar's to wee and pooh with a blatant disregard for the laws of hygiene, the size of their bladder/bowel and or any dignity.

January is rubbish. My only consolation is that it seems to be moving on quite quickly.

I'm trying not to think about those YSL shoes. I waaant them, but as I nearly broke my ankle wearing sensible boots today it's unlikely to be a wise purchase.

Léonie said...

I am making my way through a bottle of my grandmother's expensive wine, having just watched about four hours of television on the Internet. Please don't feel bad about feeling directionless in January, as I heard that anyone who feels in the least bit hopeful will be rounded up and shot. See also: people who manage to lose any weight.

Chin up! Oh, sorry.

Zed said...

I love the snow - although I gave myself backache carrying the shopping back from Delhaize. Damn bad backs.

As I prepared my superb meal of roast pork, beans, carrots, roast spuds, home-made compôte and chicon, I thought of you and your little shell-friends.

My kids no longer like chicon - they are more anglais than belge - WEEEEEEEEEE!

I still want a tortoise so consider yourself very, very lucky.

(It's my birthday next month - just in case you felt like - you know, erm, well, erm, handing me a errr - spread-sheet?)

Z said...

Fucking and January go together, but fucking and boring do not. The more fucking, the less boredom.

Remember, darling, I'm old enough to be your Mother. So I know these things.

I adore puppies. Oscar can nibble my ankles any time and I'll just sniff his lovely puppy-breath.

SUEB0B said...

Even here in Southern California, the dark is oppressive. I look at the wimpy 2 pm sun and think "Why are you so weak and wan? You are practically worthless!"

I eat and drink too much. I sleep 12 hours at a time and yet the days are still too long. I do not exercise. I want to go hide in the crisper drawer.

Pearl said...

Some days it is the flat-line brain, and some days it is the quick-witted brain of our dreams. Unfortunately, the quick-witted brain is normally seen in warmer climes...
I am sorry you are having a rough time, but even at your (perceived) worst, you are still one of the more clever people in all of Blogdom.

Lisa said...

Well, you made me laugh like a hyena, so it's not a total loss. For me at least.

And thank you.

Ali said...

Do take heart in the fact that even at your most boring you are able to entertain all of these people. You made me laugh.

Also, just imagine if you were Gwyneth, that is really having nothing of interest to say. Imagine if this blog were GOOP. See, don't you feel better now?

Vanessa said...

I keep telling my family that oppressive thrift will send me to the mental hospital sooner than a few amazing sale purchases will send us to the poorhouse. Predictably, I sit here stewing in my own disheveled juices, getting more hideous by the minute. The Blistex lip balm I received in my Christmas stocking isn't really helping in the beauty department.

Jaywalker said...

Red Shoes - thank you. Where's the exit?

HFF - Marina is such a slut. Thank goodness she never saw Julius. He was truly the Barry White of chelonians.

Iheart - noooo. How will we ever emerge?

Lisa SD - shall we swap? I have a presentation to write for 20th and I have to review 18 eurotedious judgements. What's the brief about?

Justme - quite right.

Pochyemu - you aren't suggesting I exercise are you? Jesus. That would never do.

P - Yes. We really should. If it must be the 1950s around here I might as well do it properly.

PM - No, I still love the wheepette. He is soft and silky and falls asleep on my knee all the time. But he has the brain of a petit pois and is incontinent. Love is a trial.

Katyboo - hmm. We will just have to support each other through this with not even a pair of snakeskin Tributes to rub together.

Léonie - chin up is good. High enough to get away from the tiny sharp teeth ideally. Hmm. Television on line. Your idea pleases me..

Zed - but I thought you didn't cook, ever? What is this?

Z - I am not doing any of that. Katyboo knows why. Oscar has the January fug too. He is curled into a stroky ball looking mournful.

SueBob - but it's cold in there! Can't we just go for cocktails instead?

Pearl - ah, you are too kind. Lovely Pearl.

Lisa - that makes me feel a LOT better, so thank you.

Ali - yes! She has been busy over the holidays. I printed out all her nonsense and then left it on the printer at work. Oops.

Vanessa - oh god I realise I gave my sister 2 lip balms for Christmas now you mention it. They were tinted though - does that make it any better? It doesn't, does it. Bollocks.

River said...

There's only three weeks of January left. Love the tortoise.

bevchen said...

January is by far the worst month. All the fun and glitter of Christmas is over and the sun still hasn't come out of hiding yet. Roll on Spring!

emily said...

firstly, boo for the blogging restrictions and curfew...
secondly, i think everyone knows January is awful - the trick seems to be either to hibernate entirely (as i did one year when i had no proper job) or to find lots of little lovely things to do,a nd avoid all the hideous things liek laundry!
i personally have opted for funerals and the ballet - one good thing and one bad thing to do...