One of the good things about walking to work is that I get to slowly wake up en-route. At the moment I’m really enjoying the blossoms – daffodils, tulips, flowering shrubs and trees. You would have thought that this would make me skip down the hill in the mornings but at the moment I’m so hot and have had a cold for so long that I am really not happy dragging myself into the office. Of course, I feel obligated to drag myself into the office even though I’m not 100% because I’m not really bad enough to stay at home – and it’s a new job so I’m still trying to impress…
In an effort to feel better, I’ve started taking Echinacea and extra Vitamin C. I’m sucking on throat sweets, drinking lots of herbal teas and going to sleep early every night.
I get so hot in the night that I kick off most of the covers and they land on Helios. He had to remake the bed last night because the covers were in a state with all my kicking. Just a note here, there are certain tasks that Helios always does: the ironing (because he’s ex-RAF and much much better at it than I am), drying the dishes (because I’m better at washing than drying), and making the bed (because it’s far far easier for him to do and, being ex-RAF, you can bounce a coin off the covers when he’s done).
Now, part of my problem is that I finally decided to have a period because the PMT was unbearable. I was hot with PMT. Now I’m hot with DMT (D stands for During) and I still have this gastly cold that leaves me wondering if I’m feverish or if it’s just DMT. I will be so happy when I am finally onto this cycle and my body expects it! I suppose I shouldn’t complain – at least I’m not doubled-over in pain this time!
The good thing about this cold is that my voice has gone quite deep. I am notorious at work for “chatting up” translators to get what I want but now I don’t have to make as much effort!
The weather here recently has been just glorious. I truly believe that there’s nothing as beautiful as England in the summer when the weather is sunny.
I’m lucky that I’ve been surfing in England in the dim and distant past. There’s something slightly surreal about driving down to Cornwall in a convertible with The Beach Boys playing on the radio… Surf in England isn’t like the surf you get elsewhere. The English like to make the best of things and the surf in Cornwall is not terribly high… I think we get about a foot of surf – maximum. It’s great for me because I think I would be intimidated by large waves. Originally I’m from a land-locked region of the US. The most amount of water I regularly saw was in the toilet. I’ve been told that some people, alcohol-enhanced, would occasionally toilet-surf but I’ve never partaken in such events!
However, I did once go to a Halloween Party dressed all in white with white flowers in my hair and a sign on my back that said “Kiss me I’m a Virgin!” That was my costume. I digress, and that was a very long time ago – I was still at university back then!
Surfing is strangely relaxing. There’s a rhythm to waiting for the right wave and a lovely satisfaction when you catch one. I have a tendency to giggle all the way to the beach! I also like it because I truly believe a wet-suit looks great on anyone. With all black and brightly coloured piping in all the right places just looks fantastic! I’d love to see Helios in one! Va Va Voom!