Shhhh...

Okay... secret squirrel... I'm 'bloggin' on the job.

Its 8.30am and I just can't be arsed diving into work mode just yet. Probably something to do with the anxiety attacks I've had since Friday about having to come back into the stale air-conned environment and losing my tan (coz brown fat looks better than white fat and I'm still in disguise mode... no, no I HAVEN'T found those extra 5kg that my other colleague seems to have evaporated off... no its just because I'm so BROWN you see the er... SHADING gives the illusion that I am more CURVACIOUS...) Oh who AM I kidding.

Despite some crazy sleep patterns over the last few days (and OUT-OF-IT dreams!) I'm doin okay. I broke my 'back at work lay off the piss' rule fairly quickly. Monday to be exact. But it was worth it. Just a little squiffy to get me through without people noticing how bad my DT's are.

Anyhoo... I digress... I was going to fill you in on how the opera pool party went and how I spent my last few days of vacation. Well suffice to say when I finally crawed out of the 'playhouse' Saturday brunchtime and took a look at the night captured in all its digital photographic glory I was... quite frankly... horrified. I now see how the whole 'scared straight' tactic works. Althought the night was one of the best times I've had in ages I obviously lost all inhibition and decorum. It must have been the beautiful Waitakere bush setting, the lovely day, the good wine, the fine fine company, great conversation and belly laughs galore. And opera... for a little while... although that was quickly replaced by middle-eastern dancing... which was awesome - especially when you have a cape that you can fling around passionately while doing moves you thought were lost a decade ago. Totally totally awesome.

Fast forward to the morning... yeah so I wake up in the little cottage sleep out (absolutely gorgeous) that we affectionately christened 'The Playhouse' because it was just like the one my Dad made me when I was a little girl. Feeling a little stiff, foggy and with really sore knees. Turns out at some point I fell up the stairs but it looks suspiciously like carpet burn - of which it is not I can assure you. My lovely friend however came of worst of all - appparently during our passionately portrayal of middle eastern beauties she came butt-to-armrest with one of her chairs (so reported the only sober attendee of our soiree - her partner) so with her broken bum and my scraped knees we then cringed at the photographic evidence of our drunken shenanagans... but oh it was worth it... so very worth it.

Suffice to say the Saturday evening was fairly quiet - as was the Sunday. Sleeping was appauling - dreams of evil spirits and strange encounters disrupted my plan for a refreshed relaxed look and attitude coming back to the office. One particular dream involved some form of dancing but all the people involved were big round air-filled balls - not unlike Voilet the human blueberry from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I remember being half-awake and half within the strange twilight zone of the state of alpha slumber and rolling back and forth in my bed over and over until I was semi-strangled by sheets and had to wake up to avoid death by 70-count cotton.

Monday was awesome. I hit the office with gusto. Prepared for the onslaught of what I had walked out on in disgust way back in 2008. By about 2pm I was knackered, my brain hurt, my eyes were dry, my vision wobbly and my feet were killing me - why oh why can we not wear our shorts and jandals to work???!!! I then get a call from my Sister - come over tonight for the Monday night special - its the one night when they and all 4 kids get together, open door policy, food for Africa - "come, come! Haven't seen you since New Year's Eve Eve... bring the boy" so we go. And we enjoy and we eat and I drink and we sing Kareoke and then we come home and I am so thankful that I have an 18-year-old who is awesome and everyone loves and who can drive me home...

So that's the week so far. Have made it to Wednesday and am slowly coming to terms with things. Goal for January 09: declutter. Just a few things that are well overdue for a tidy-up. Including ME!!! Gotta go - my 9.30 is here!

Ciao!! Wish me luck!

xxx