We're being blogged about

I am not dead. You may all breathe a sigh of relief.

Dead tired? Yes.

Dead on my feet? Yes.

Dead annoyed? Yes.

Dead overworked and underpaid? Yes.

But not dead. And my leg's still attached. Yay. Macca is safe.

Although nutty is not an old cow, sometimes I think I'm older in mind than I am in body. I think I plan things too much. N proposed a proposal to me the other day. Not actually, but theoretically, along the lines of "if I asked you to… what would you say?". I answered "I'd say yes, but not yet."

So why? If you think about it, that's a silly thing to say. I love him, he loves me. I can see myself saying yes. I can see myself with him. So why don't I say yes.

Because I have a plan.

26 - engaged
27 - marry
30 - child
30 - move out of London
31 - move to bigger house
33 - child 2

Where it goes from there is anyone's guess. I suppose it's tempting fate in a way. I don't know if any of these stages will ever happen but it's just the way I've always thought about it. I think that any younger that 26 is too young to be engaged. Similarly, I think that men shouldn't get married before 30.

Who knows. Anyway, N knows he has to wait. At the same time, it is really rather nice knowing that I've got someone who loves me that much.

(of course, now I've said that, it'll all go to rack and ruin and fall apart. He'll have an affair with a leggy blond and I'll turn into a toad or similar.)

P.S. Got a promotion on Friday. Of sorts.

I've been bitten by a spider.

If I don't post for 3 weeks, you know my leg's become infected and fallen off (because a lack of a leg would stop me typing, naturally.)

Housemates are strange people. I should know, I've lived with a couple.

One who sticks in my head is a girl, S. S was nice enough - she wasn't my friend, she belonged to another member of the house. She did have one disturbing obsession though.

In a fit of girly giggles we had stuck attractive, half naked men up the stairs (posters of, not real, worse luck) just to brighten up what was, essentially, a dossy student flat. Imagine our suprise when returning home one day (in time for Countdown, naturally) when we saw a new picture on the stairs.

A picture of S's dad.

A signed picture of S's dad.

Does anyone else think that's a little bit odd?

I got caught in the rain this morning on my way to work. In a fit of Blue-Peter-do-it-yourself-with-a-roll-of-sticky-back-plastic-ness I wrapped a cream pashmina around my head.

"That's ok." I thought. "I look a bit like Grace Kelly."

I got into the office and looked at myself.

Less Grace Kelly. More drowned rat with matching soggy accessories.

I have an excuse.

As a good friend blogger pointed out to me today

"If you've got a life, you don't need a blog"

Hey, she said it, not me.

Honestly, I feel bad for the lack of a post over the last couple of days. So, just so as you feel you're completely up to date with my life. Have a quick run down:

• Hours worked: 48
• Cups of tea drunk: 14
• Glasses of wine consumed: 3
• Cigarettes smoked: 40
• Rugby matches played: 1
• Tried scored: 1
• Hospital visits: 1
• Painful painkillers given (don't ask): 1
• Slings given: 1
• Days sling worn before becoming fed up and realising that actually, no one on the train/tube cares if you're injured or not, they'll still wallop you: 1
• Newsletters edited: 25
• Paracetamol popped: 8
• Lusty dreams: 0
• Times been stood up by N in favour of the sound of music premiere: 1
• Covert conversations on gmail: many
• Rants: 3
• Strops: 5
• Genuinely happy days: 0
• Days neck has ached: 3
• Bars of chocolate eaten: 1
• Dreams of packing it all in and leaving: countless
• Mysterious conversations with boss about possible job offer: 1
• Times I have berated myself for not blogging: 0

P.S. 20 points to anyone who can guess the relevance of today's picture

They were all there. David, Jonny, some chavtastic woman in a pink shell suit. Oh, and me and N. Jonny and I got on well. Very well. Nothing happened but I was being a bit of a flirt. Giggling. Touching his arm, playing with my hair. I could feel N's heavy gaze on me and I felt a twinge of guilt. He had a forced smile as he sat there surrounded by these luminaries. I noticed him there alone but in my selfish daze I ignored it.

I woke up with a start.

I am in one of those situations where I am so tired that I cannot work but I am so busy that I cannot sleep.

I never normally have problems with sleeping. Show me something semi flat and warm (or not in the case of camping in Henley the other year) and, much like a cat, I will sleep there.

Not recently. I tried to do a check list the other night and figure out what was what could be stopping me sleep:

• Bed - yes
• Duvet - yes
• Comfy pillows - yes
• Sufficiently dark room - yes

All that was fine. Then, I tried to think what could be keeping me awake:

• Potential psychopath in cupbaord - no cupboard therefore no psychopath
• Yelping foxes outside window - nope, chucked stones at them very early into my occupancy. They know who's boss.
• Unputdownable book that had been put down - no, haven't read one of those since the last Jilly Cooper
• Something I'd forgotten to do - can't remember so doesn't bother me
• Hungry? Thirsty? Sober? - who are you kidding?

I am at a loss.

Any ideas?