Boxing day was indeed spent at my parents' house - where my sister spent the day getting tipsier and louder and snappier because she wanted to take my mother and her credit card to the sales, my father took to his bed because he'd done far too much over the last couple of days, my mother got a foot massage and made a lovely pork dinner which was left completely untouched by the kids who'd ritually stuffed themselves with chocolate when they got up.
I was made to sit through the hell that was the Coronation Street Christmas Panto and Spy Kids, a film I always swore I'd never watch but which my vindictive kids now love!
Today they slept late. I got a lovely lie in till the mad hour of 9am! Bliss!
The TV was on, but I'm buggered if I know what was on. I do know we watched "Ever After" tonight. If I never do again, it'll be too soon. After that we had a tipple, caught up with Eastenders and the Casualty @ Holby City special via Telewest's Teleport, the poor man's TiVO, restocked Charlie's MP3 player and repaired a few broken programs on the PC. The kids ran riot and played with loads of their new toys, breaking some and doing wonderfully creative things with others.
This is the week where I traditionally take stock and wonder where life is leading. I don't make resolutions, but I like to start the year with at least an idea of what I'll do.
I know now, for example, that I will not be receiving any financial support with which to set up my business. To face the prospect of raising £4000 with a credit rating so red it could be used to tan most of Essex is not the most daunting one I've ever faced, but it's up there. It means a rethink and some quick action in order to keep my long term plans on track...
You see, I was about to go off on one, going into huge detail about just what I want to do, but it's also stultifyingly dull.
Let's just say that by the end of January, I want to have at least one more driving lesson under my belt and I want to have signed up for a couple of night school classes. By the end of February, I want to have shed at least a stone and we should have reinstated our twice-weekly swimming trips. I should also have a job in a school - either as a classroom assistant or IT assistant or something.
And on it goes.
Come June, I have to come to terms with turning thirty-three. Ick. I'm not old, I'm not, I'm not.
Big goals next year:
- Passing my Driving Test
- Taking the family on holiday
- Losing huge swathes of excess weight
- Paying off all my debts
- Keeping a job for at least...well...ever, really.
- Persuading the Local Education Authority to fund my foray back to University - this time to study Psychology
- Ensuring that Christmas does not descend to the usual battle of wills between the Present obsessed Charlie and the practical but perpetually broke Me
- Transferring Allison's huge stack of VHS tapes to DVD, whether by video capture or retail purchase
There'll probably be more added to the list through the week, but for now, that'll do.
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We have an agreement that when Charlie gets to a certain dress size, we'll fix a date for our wedding. Given that the two couples we know who haven't divorced are sinfuly miserable, I may have to work on changing her mind about that.
* * *
It's come to my attention that certain people who read this blog have been blessed with quite a bit of snow.
Gits.
I love snow, and the pathetic dusting we got this afternoon didn't even have the staying power to get the pavement wet.
* * *
Thank god. No really, thank GOD they've stopped playing christmas songs 24 hours a day on the radio!
And I need to have a better selection on my MP3 player than the Gorillaz and Madeline Peyroux I lumbered myself with today.
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Still
