Trials And Tribulations...
... all week long.
This has been probably one of the more challenging weeks I've had. From expectant waiting to hear from the interview results to being disappointed. I finished the Dissertation this week and I submitted a copy to my supervisor that gave me some very encouraging feedback, saying if I tweaked one or two sections there wasn't any reason why I shoudn't be in line for a First. Then there's the shadow of impending exams hanging over me, and in the midst of it I was potentially offered an exciting position to work in a very cool company that I've been temping at on and off recently. Then I've been thinking about my future career and deciding that the best course of action to take would be after my exams are over.
Other Half has been an angel all week and take things in its stride and been very supportive.
Thursday evening I decided to pack it all in for a day or two and had French Teacher over for dinner. It was a very civilised affair, lots of wine, and I rustled up in true Domestic Princess style a Rustic Italian Easter Dish. So, the night lapsed into a blur and we were all happily watered and fed.
Friday, the weather was brilliant. Sunshine, sunglasses, and even the beginnings of Pimm's all around. Yay, finally spring has sprung. Earlier in the day I was feeling a bit unsettled, thinking that it was high time that I did some more revision but OH very wisely put all thoughts out of my head and insisted that the best thing that I needed was a Very Long Walk and to spend some Quality Time together. He was right.
Wandered through Marylebone and into Mayfair, down little side streets with quaint shops selling bric-a-brac and whatnots. At one stage we walked pass a Surveilance Shop that had lots of Mission Imposible style gadgets and there were some very amusing pictures and captions in the window that almost made it a parody of what a surveillance shop should be all about. Then two doors down we came across a similar shop but this was a Counter-Surveillance Shop.
*chuckles*
Coming up to Picadilly there was a bar-cum-cafe place that was actually open on Good Friday when most of the surrounding shops were closed. Peeked in and saw that it looked very swish, with a chrome bar and lots of mirrors with artfully distressed tables and sofas, and right by the window sat a very pleased looking mother holding on to a baby who was facing the other way. She caught my eye and smiled at me and I smiled back, as we walked past I naturally looked back to have glimpse of the baby.
Then I walked on and then decided to turn around to have another look at the baby. And I nudged OH to have a good look at the baby as well...
It was one Ugly Baby. So ugly I had to do a Double Take just to make sure that I wasn't being biased. OH said it looked like it was missing a Flat-Cap and a Woodbine. I thought it looked like Elmer Fudd.
I mean, I know I'm mean, but the baby had wrinkles...
Then as we were crossing Parliament Square there was a little boy's voice that piped up 'Daddy, what would happen if we pushed Mummy on to the road and a steam-roller ran over her?' (Little Gay Homicidal Maniac in the making. I mean, what about the Oedipal Complex? Surely he should be proposing to kill his father rather than his mother?)
Later we found ourselves down by the South Bank and as we sat down to a lunch of crepes I commented on the immense swarms of children that had seemed to invade London. OH turned to me and said 'Honey, are we being broody?'
Me: 'What makes you think so?'
OH: 'Well, its not just you but I think I've noticed children a lot more recently than I can remember.'
Me: 'What are you implying?'
OH: 'Well, just that I've seen a lot of the recently and I've been thinking about having kids.'
Me: 'Noticed lots of kids recently? Perhaps it because its the Easter Holidays...'
OH: 'Oh... Yes, that would make sense...'
Later on I came up with the most brilliant idea. If children were on the cards then I'd always have wonderful parties for them. Themed parties. And I'd have one Theme running through from when they are kids until they are 18.
A Victorian Theme.
Where Children Should Be Seen and Not Heard.
This has been probably one of the more challenging weeks I've had. From expectant waiting to hear from the interview results to being disappointed. I finished the Dissertation this week and I submitted a copy to my supervisor that gave me some very encouraging feedback, saying if I tweaked one or two sections there wasn't any reason why I shoudn't be in line for a First. Then there's the shadow of impending exams hanging over me, and in the midst of it I was potentially offered an exciting position to work in a very cool company that I've been temping at on and off recently. Then I've been thinking about my future career and deciding that the best course of action to take would be after my exams are over.
Other Half has been an angel all week and take things in its stride and been very supportive.
Thursday evening I decided to pack it all in for a day or two and had French Teacher over for dinner. It was a very civilised affair, lots of wine, and I rustled up in true Domestic Princess style a Rustic Italian Easter Dish. So, the night lapsed into a blur and we were all happily watered and fed.
Friday, the weather was brilliant. Sunshine, sunglasses, and even the beginnings of Pimm's all around. Yay, finally spring has sprung. Earlier in the day I was feeling a bit unsettled, thinking that it was high time that I did some more revision but OH very wisely put all thoughts out of my head and insisted that the best thing that I needed was a Very Long Walk and to spend some Quality Time together. He was right.
Wandered through Marylebone and into Mayfair, down little side streets with quaint shops selling bric-a-brac and whatnots. At one stage we walked pass a Surveilance Shop that had lots of Mission Imposible style gadgets and there were some very amusing pictures and captions in the window that almost made it a parody of what a surveillance shop should be all about. Then two doors down we came across a similar shop but this was a Counter-Surveillance Shop.
*chuckles*
Coming up to Picadilly there was a bar-cum-cafe place that was actually open on Good Friday when most of the surrounding shops were closed. Peeked in and saw that it looked very swish, with a chrome bar and lots of mirrors with artfully distressed tables and sofas, and right by the window sat a very pleased looking mother holding on to a baby who was facing the other way. She caught my eye and smiled at me and I smiled back, as we walked past I naturally looked back to have glimpse of the baby.
Then I walked on and then decided to turn around to have another look at the baby. And I nudged OH to have a good look at the baby as well...
It was one Ugly Baby. So ugly I had to do a Double Take just to make sure that I wasn't being biased. OH said it looked like it was missing a Flat-Cap and a Woodbine. I thought it looked like Elmer Fudd.
I mean, I know I'm mean, but the baby had wrinkles...
Then as we were crossing Parliament Square there was a little boy's voice that piped up 'Daddy, what would happen if we pushed Mummy on to the road and a steam-roller ran over her?' (Little Gay Homicidal Maniac in the making. I mean, what about the Oedipal Complex? Surely he should be proposing to kill his father rather than his mother?)
Later we found ourselves down by the South Bank and as we sat down to a lunch of crepes I commented on the immense swarms of children that had seemed to invade London. OH turned to me and said 'Honey, are we being broody?'
Me: 'What makes you think so?'
OH: 'Well, its not just you but I think I've noticed children a lot more recently than I can remember.'
Me: 'What are you implying?'
OH: 'Well, just that I've seen a lot of the recently and I've been thinking about having kids.'
Me: 'Noticed lots of kids recently? Perhaps it because its the Easter Holidays...'
OH: 'Oh... Yes, that would make sense...'
Later on I came up with the most brilliant idea. If children were on the cards then I'd always have wonderful parties for them. Themed parties. And I'd have one Theme running through from when they are kids until they are 18.
A Victorian Theme.
Where Children Should Be Seen and Not Heard.
posted by Marmoset at
4:22 pm
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