Sunday, 7 March 2010

Weekly Review - or the Reason I don't do Weekly Review often any more

I am trying to find a way of saying something other than "I am really really fucking tired. And a bit grumpy and self-loathing". Give me a moment. Oh, weekly review? We haven't done that for ages and, well, it fills a hole doesn't it.

Monday

My delightful small obsessive compulsive turns six and for the first time in either of my children's lives, I am not there to wish him a happy birthday in the morning, which is exceptionally odd and frankly, not very nice. To cheer me up, M and I go to the fleamarket and laugh at tat. We are particularly excited by this. After school, we have a sedate celebration, with green iced cake and plastic tat. My boy is as collected, understated as ever. I love him so much, strange little creature. M babysits while I go to a gig. They are pretty good AND it's warm enough to stand outside for a while afterwards without perishing like the little match girl. This will not be repeated all week, as Belgium sinks into a freakish nuclear winter.

Tuesday

Work. Painful exhaustion starting to build up already by this point, due to my inability to go to sleep without watching 3 very fuzzy, low definition episodes of 30 Rock and twitching compulsively for several hours.

Wednesday

I hate Wednesdays. This one is no different. In the evening, at least there is NOUVELLE STAR, my one French tv obsession. Wednesdays are looking up slightly, for the next couple of months.

Thursday

I have a cunning idea for a story. No, not a fiction story. Reportage. It is about Charleroi and I will be executing my cunning plan next weekend. Sssssh. I fail to make any progress on anything more concrete.

Friday

We get caught in a police hold up on our way out of a toy shop, where some lunatics have decided to hold up possibly the crappiest jewellers in Belgium, then carjack and kill some poor woman. We scurry home through the police barriers and hole up at home, glad not to be dead. The CFO comes round in the evening and we drink wine and I fail to have any dinner and watch 30 Rock into the early hours, thereby setting myself up for a shitty morning the next day.

Saturday

Much hideosity, shouting, squabbling, after an impressive opening sally by Fingers, who arrives in my bed, cruelly awaking me by announcing it is 8 am. I drag myself out of a deep sleep filled with anxiety dreams about my iphone snapping in half. When I finally drag my carcass to a clock, I see, that it is in fact 6:20. The day continues in the vein, punctuated by the unedifying sound of me shrieking like a harpy. We make our harried progress across Brussels to several dull appointments, hindered at every turn by Taxis Bleus. We play several bad tempered board games. The dog is terrified by the giant Mikado sticks, and with good reason.

The nadir comes when I am removing fighting children forcibly from the bath - what had, intially been MY bath - in full harpy-shriek mode. I swing around to grab a towel and knock a bottle of perfume to the floor, shattering into a thousand deadly and widely spread shards. Lashes gets a cut on his foot which bleeds like bastard, provoking polyphonic wailing from all household members. The scent of Fresh Pink Jasmine overpowers us all. None of it is really their fault. It's me - I am out of practice, after nearly three weeks without them. I never want to get to this point again, and vow to make sure it doesn't happen.

Into this scene of carnage walks the poor babysitter, as I make my brief escape to the Brussels late night museum opening event. The museum I am in has a Mexican theme. At one point I find myself watching small children in spandex tights and masks making some kind of vague attempt at Mexican wrestling. I think, fleetingly, that if I had wanted to watch children fight I could have done that in my own home, but I drown the thought in that most Mexican of drinks, vodka and Red Bull (eh? Where is my margarita, bastards?). There is nothing to eat. On arrival home I fall asleep slumped over on the dog with a camomile tea spilling in my lap, because I know how to party.

Sunday

Immune to repeated assurances it is really, truly morning, I snarl all comers away until a more respectable 7:45. We spend most of the day in a windowless soft play park in a converted ice rink. It's ok, really, if very cold. I can at least sit in a corner desultorily chatting. Later, Lashes and I wrestle with verb conjugation and spelling. I am very impatient. He is very stubborn. Someone should knock our heads together, but Fingers is busy playing Uno against a stick. I spend some time trying to convince the boys they can't sleep in the giant box, which I have gifted them. Earlier in the day I found both Lashes and the dog holed up in there, in a pile of duvets. They looked very cosy. As I put him to bed, Lashes recoils and tells me I smell of 'produits laitiers' (dairy products). I have not eaten any all day. Maybe I am turning into a Bonne Maman crème caramel? It's long overdue.

I am going to try and break the no dinner pattern now. I am not hopeful. There is still a series and a half of 30 Rock left.


Go on, tell me about your week.

26 comments:

Lisa-Marie said...

It is an uber pain in the arse when glass things break! It the small child's foot ok?

Try not to loathe yourself, all of us on the internets like you.

The drug den play area sounds rubbish. They are generally crap, in all my working with children, I've only found one good one.

I hope you wrote 'where the fuck is my margarita?' In the museum's comment book.

Jaywalker said...

Fuck, Lisa-Marie, Now I really wish I had. I might go back and do so in three languages.

Em said...

Mmmm, but doesn't 30 Rock, well, rock. On the bright side and all that.

I have to say though, you still achieved in your week. I had an achieve-less week of lethargy and everybody else (of course) making it all too hard and spent far too much time talking myself up in my head and seething and muttering. Now I sound like a nutter.

I did try yoga. Yup, a nutter.

softinthehead said...

I can't now, I am exhausted after reading all that :)

the polish chick said...

monday: scraped calcified food products from the teeth of people who hate me. but hey! the herring are spawning!

tuesday: get weighed at the gym. have gained almost 10kg over the year i've been working out. WTF? no, it's not muscle; muscle doesn't jiggle. orientation at a musty bookstore where i will be volunteering. i get to alphabetise books, remove old ones, put out new ones - brainless repetetive labour. i think i'm in love!

wednesday: went to see herring spawning, but there was nothing to see. i guess they are pretty private, the coy bastards.

thursday: more beach walking. i'm sure other things took place as well but damned if i can remember.

friday: went to see a film. am realising that i can no longer sit through most films unless they are of the indie variety. hollywood, you bore me!

saturday: my birthday, i.e. let's set our hopes way high so we can get them dashed. morning squabble with mr. monkey, followed by a long and exhausting walk on the beach. we see two eagles mating. very cool. dinner made for me, topped off with creme brulee. in bed by 9, watching lost. good day after all.

sunday: errands. goddamn errands. i shall go eat some cheese now.

Ellie said...

Oh god. SOunds reasonably hideous with a few bright sparks (tat). Never go away for three weeks again.

WrathofDawn said...

Can't tell you about last week. It is too long ago and I no longer remember anything. I just remember remarking to co-workers on Friday that it seemed to go very, very fast and I felt as if it should only be Wednesday.

Oh! Remembered that on Wednesday I slew the horrid Vista and discovered a way to convert colour photos to grayscale mode for our newsletter. This was my top victory for the week.

Yes. It has come to that.

Margaret said...

Mon-Fri: Eh, working at a freelance job surrounded by dewey youth. (Fuck you, dewey youth, gaze upon my croniness for it is your DESTINY. But I do like your sweater. Oh. You brought me a latte? Oh. Thank you. Wear sunscreen!)

Sat-Sun: Spring? Maybe perhaps? Walking around, great day, then suddenly: terrible food, yelling match with husband on the street (were you walking around Brooklyn Heights today? Did you see Burgess Meredith screaming at some hapless guy?). But it got better.

Jaywalker: I so love you for the Little Match Girl. I refer to her often, only to get blank looks.

wv: brorwell: the lost Bronte?

Artichoke Queen said...

Hmmmmmm.

Monday: My dear friend's 50th birthday. Take her to lunch at the cupcake shop. Eat cupcakes.

Tuesday: Mani/Pedi. Pleasant phone call with company I am trying to get to hire me.

Wednesday: Girls' party for friend who turned 50: cooking demo/lesson at another friend's house which included the most magnificent butternut squash ravioli on earth.

Thursday: Um, erm, yeah. I suppose I probably showered?

Friday: Possibly another shower?

Saturday: 50-year-old friend's big party (FFS, are we done yet?). Dinner, dancing, gossip, very enjoyable. Because when I turned 40 Nathan declared that I would not be able to sleep on evenings when I consume alcohol (thanks, dick), I do not get to sleep until 4:30am.

Sunday: Oscar party with the girls. Some cooking. Much snarking about the dresses (SJP, what were you thinking?), and I came in second in the pool. Now home in bed at 10:25.

It was a pleasant week overall.

Jessica said...

Saturday night I drank too much. That's all I know. My week before Friday has been macerated into a series of fragmented memories.

I do know (not that I recall it, rather I was told of it the morning after,) that my behaviour Saturday was not at all fitting of a lady, and the only thing I am glad for (after boyfriend filled in the substantial blank of most of the night) is that when I am so drunk I can't really remember the evening I
a)apparently do not lose the ability to speak in French, and
b)keep my lewd manners and sluttish behaviour directed at boyfriend, and (thankfully) out of sight from the other friends we were out with. I am still shocked.

I do know that other than tedious housework, there was some serious and effective procrastination going on here during the week. I am a champion at avoiding my studies for the moment.

Friday night I wanted to go and see the Liège air-guitar competition, but this was nixed due to factors involving work-related idiocy and location of the competition. We decide to try for either the future Mons or Brussels air-guitar finals instead.

Sunday I tried not to pass out or throw-up while working. Boyfriend pitied me and collected me from work, making dinner while I struggled to function in any real capacity, and allowed me to sleep on him in what was definitely uncomfortable-for-him fashion while 'we' watched a movie.

Monday morning and my head still hurts.

frau antje said...

Going backwards from today, the most disturbing thing about Still Life with Pets is the table edge at the bottom.

Realize people nearby are embarking on huge humanitarian projects, all the while keeping an eye on a buck, as they are wont to do. So my diligence in putting off repetitive chores and maintenance is probably fostering some much needed balance in our ecosystem.

Look over options for long, involved arduous flights to destinations filled with a mixture of dread and dread, punctuated by trying not to cry at a high school graduation.

Continue to get food that requires the least amount of money and effort, more of a sport really, and as it's relatively healthy and unprocessed--like we're all not constantly ingesting poison anyway, and who cares--I'm not hurting anyone (if I did want to hurt someone I would use passive aggression, because it is the most socially responsible form of aggression). Not sure about the health benefits of a bottle of Panchito's tequila, but I think it's okay as the cheapest triple sec I can find is Cointreau.

Most of the aforementioned repetitive chores and maintenance duly not done, and repeated attempts to install long zippers in a duvet cover (fuck you V & D!) with a 25 euro sewing machine. This requires much screwing around with all of it (yes, I'm surprised too) and perhaps giving up...not sure yet, but at least I'm not a novice at that.

Z said...

Can't do a recap, don't remember. Except Friday, when I celebrated 6-week anniversary of hip by sitting down in the bath. I could have wept with pleasure.

The other highlight of the week was conjugal relations being restored, which was splendid except now my husband is so in love all over again that I'm not getting any sleep.

Anyway, about the children - 50/50 childcare is really difficult to get right, particularly for the person who has moved out, because of being the visited one. And if you've been away, it's harder again. Hope it goes better next time they see you. They will probably remember it as better than you do, if it's any consolation.

emily said...

mon - work... was relaxed after good weekend so went quite quickly
tues - work again, relaxing edge lost as i battle with accounts people, who are all idiots and also with the beginnings of a bad headache. Early night - 9pm
weds - wake up, discover pixies sitting in my head gleefully poking sharp sticks into my brain. manage to funtion enough to text my boss, day off work, lying around whimpering and feeling sorry for myself
thurs - fragile but back to work, day exactly the same as tuesday
fri - feel dreadful, persuade boss to let me swap some holiday around and go home at lunch. Lie on couch in sunglasses and fall aslep, only waking when the guests we had arranged for that evening arrive.
Sat - hide, watch NCIS and whimper again - head slightly better though - no sunglasses required
sun - knitting whilst watching NCIS.

Basically a boring week to live and read about- sorry... Oh and i hope things get better for you, although 30 rock is rather entertaining so all not lost for you yet!

Provincial Lady said...

Monday: feeling unreasonably washed out although sore throat which kept me off work for a week is gone. Sleep through the day, wake up to find weird plague like rash on my leg.

Tuesday: Doctor confirms shingles, gives me lovely antivirals. I go and tell work I won't be in for several more days, and go home and sleep.

Wednesday: sleep

Thursday: have hard core Advanced Life Support course 8am til 6pm. Struggle to stay awake through endless cycles of CPR on plastic dummies. The fact that it is on a beach! in Falmouth! and the sun is shining! does help somewhat.

Friday: more of the same, sun still shining and I pass, hooray! Also, no old people at the hotel collapse and force us to put this into practice too soon.

Saturday: Audi lose boyfriend's A8 (for the second time. The car is over 5 metres long! How can you LOSE it?) and we wait five hours in a garage for it not to turn up.

Sunday: Take the greyhound for a gallop along the beach, he occasionally feigns deafness and runs away, poops ON TOP OF THE CLIFF so I have to climb up the steep path after him to clear up - however he doesn't roll in the rotting whale carcass that's been decomposing for a week, so all must be forgiven him. Spent the rest of the day cleaning sand out of his eyes and showing inappropriate videos ("look at my horse, my horse is amazing") on youtube to friends forgetting their 8yr old son is in the room and will be attracted to puerile humour like a magnet. I should never be allowed children.

Hexen und Schnecken said...

Yeees, I can see how a picture of a hunchbacked, stoned-up-to-its-eyeballs cat sitting in a pool of tomato ketchup would have cheered up the Salmon Palace no end.
By the way, if that Mark Savas novel you'd promised me for my review last summer is still somewhere on your making-me-uncomfortable-because-I-didn't-do-it-list - you can finally forget about it, because I bought it for myself. So look, something to cheer you up.

everythings_rosie said...

Monday: Work. Laundry.

Tuesday: My creative writing class. Our brief is to write a humerous script about marriage counselling. Anyone had any?

Wednesday: Painted finger and toenails.

Thursday: Rewatched SATC Series 4 - realised how much of a comedy genius Trey MacDougall is.

Friday: Out for beers with boyf, caught up with friends.

Saturday: Lunch with Mum; football with boyf in the pub; home early for wine.

Sunday: Pub for a couple; picked birthday presents up from Mum's; pub quiz (we came joint 3rd - not bad for a team of two).

Jaywalker said...

Hexen und Schnecken - oh god oh god oh god I AM SO SORRY. SORRY SORRY SORRY. I am a terrible useless waste of space. Sorry again xxxxx

Charlie's Tribe said...

Really... you want to know about my week? Well, last week consisted of: wakeup-work-sleep-wakeup-work-sleep-wakeup-work-sleep-wakeup-work-sleep-- repeat until overwhelmed by Becket-ian sense of futility and entirely lose any will to live. For variety, this week may try sleep-sleep-sleep-wakeup- sleep-sleep-sleep... well you did ask.

Hexen und Schnecken said...

No, no, no! It wasn't meant like that at all. Seriously. Now I'm really sorry to have reminded you. It's just, you see, that I have this terrible list in my own head, about things I didn't do and should have done (some of them go back about 20 years or so) that I sometimes have nightmares about and that makes me cringe and cringe. So just thought you might be relieved, is all. Sorry. So, so sorry.

WV: shranic - brilliant word for panic about should-have-done-things

Unexpected said...

I spent half of my week wondering who on earth thought putting up an abbreviated sign behind the Toison D'Or would make sense:

http://unexpectedtraveller.wordpress.com/2010/03/04/brevity-is-the-soul-of-twit/

The Unexpected Traveller

katyboo1 said...

Mon/Tues/Weds had the house guest from hell. T failed to get into nice school and the rest of the week involved appeals, maddening phone calls to bureaucrats and having to be nice to ex-husband when all I wanted to do was batter him with a spade. Hypnotherapist made me cry. I have mouth ulcers and yet the compulsion to eat chilli doritos. I am a fule. I am also working like a bastard and not sleeping. Gah.

Your children and mine must be on some similar wavelength as mine also got forcibly ejected from the bath on Sunday with much shrieking from me. Then O rabbit punched Tallulah in the kidneys and so it went on.

I sometimes wonder if we are the same person, but you have much nicer sweets and clothes than me.

Anonymous said...

Monday - Wednesday. Woke up early and alone because man was out of town. Drank entirely too much but went to work (law firm) anyway. Visited with friends in the evenings. Ran up my phone bill. Borrowed money from mom to pay for beer.

Thursday: Woke at 7:00 and had a very chilly morning. Went to work. Got a call from my man saying the furnace was broken. Called landlord. Ate Mexican food. Went home early to meet handyman. Mad cleaned house in case landlord decided to pop in. He didn't. Showed handyman problem and denied burning out fan motor because of incompetence. Succeeded. Made pork chops and mashed potatoes. Ate and crawled in to ice cold bed fully dressed.

Friday: Woke at 3:30 sick to my stomach and froze my ass off while watching infomercials. Called in late to work and waited for Mr. Fix-it-all to fix my furnace. Got chatted up by Mr. Fix-it-all. Went to work. Shopped online for dresses for my brother's California beach wedding in May. Went to the store for beer on my way home. Drank beer. Skipped dinner and went to bed.

Saturday: Woke at 7:30. Drank beer. Ate frozen pizza. Took a nap. Went to my friend's for her 8 year old's birthday party. Gave him $5. Drank beer and watched the men play pool while the women talked about college debt and STDs. Got bored and went home. Made cheeseburgers and beans; threw the beans out. Watched awful Coraline movie with my man. Made love. Twice. Comfortably snoring by 9:30.

Sunday: Woke at 6:30. Drank beer. Made coffee for my man who woke at 9. Sent the man home. Dusted and vacuumed my place, showered, did dishes and started loads of laundry. Went to the store for more beer. Visited with a friend. Ate leftover spaghetti. Took a nap. Woke up with a sleeping buddy (the man). Cooked steak and potatoes. Made hot sweet monkey love. Passed out.

Thanks for asking! Candace

Anonymous said...

I think I'm going to stop reading your blog. I'm fed up with feeling like a sloth-like under achiever.

Fran

awhirlinlondon said...

Well aware that this will make me no friends, but Tuesday evening decided to bolt London's climate, bought a super-last-minute cheap ticket to Luxor. Left the next morning.

Rest of week? Sunbathing. Swimming in an infinity pool overlooking the Nile. Occasional cultural forays. Lamb eaten, gin drunk.

The most intelligent thing I've done in a year.

jonathan said...

I know it's not really the done thing to leave a comment on an old post but if I have worked out the days right your son was born the very day after our Frankie (born leap year day 29.2.04)!

Jaywalker said...

Jonathan, Nah, that's pretty cool. Worth commenting. They are practically twins. Fingers sneakily held on until he was guaranteed a birthday every year. He's that kind of child.