But no. Our landlord’s letter started with “we apologise if this causes you any inconvenience.” Uh, honey, I wouldn’t exactly call forcing us to uproot our entire lives an inconvenience. That’s like throwing acid on someone’s face and apologizing for getting their shirt wet.
Thankfully when I read the letter Tim had the camera on stand-by, so you can see for yourself the look on my face:
In a nutshell, they’re selling their Stafford house so they can come live in our Fairfield house. This sucks. I love Fairfield. I love our house. I hate moving. You do the maths.
But oh well…I’ve already started hunting stuff on the net and found a couple of promising options – one of which is actually a house above a swim-school??!?! I’m curious just to check it out to see what that actually involves! It’s incredibly cheap rent and our priority is getting overseas in 2007 so we’re prepared to make some short-term sacrifices to that end. So if anybody knows of anything, feel free to share the love around. We’ll happily invite you over for a nice curry-style token of appreciation.
In other news, the gig on Friday night went off, just as the subsequent night of partying (for once, with Tim actually there as well, which rocked my world). Ended up laying into the staff of the Lychee Lounge for not giving us any notice for last drinks and just shutting the place down. Tim dragged me away, finding me sincerely advising the manager that announcing last drinks by playing Thunderstruck at full-ball would work a dream if he was really that adverse to bells.
Ended up home by 3.30, then awoke at 9.30 only to feel more refreshed than I have in over a year. Tim and I grinned at each other. CHILD-FREE, BABY! We then embarked on a rainy weekend up in a rainforest cabin at Springbrook, where we managed to indulge in only the pure essentials of life. It felt so absolutely bizarre to just do nothing and alarmed me to realize how long it had been since we’d done so. This has gotta change.
We picked up the kids from grandma and grandpa’s this afternoon, were overjoyed to see them after some decent time away, and then half an hour later were battling to wrestle them into the car for the trip home. They both screamed, full-ball.
Back to reality.
After being inspired by my friend Alison, my bestest Frankie and of course, the weekend, I have realized that I need more breathing space in my life: more margin, as it were. Time that’s not planned, not scheduled and not crammed to the max with stuff. I’ve realized my motto of ‘sucking the marrow out of life’ can sometimes…well, suck. So I’m going to bite the bullet and just focus on kids, house stuff and performing for a bit. That should be more than enough to chew on.
As Ella was riding her bike tonight, I tried to stop her.
Me: Honey? Come here and give me a cuddle!
Ella: No, mummy. I’m too busy.
Me: What?
Ella: I’m too busy.
Me in humbled silence.
Me: Ella?
Ella: Yes.
Me: I’m sorry if I’ve been too busy just to hang with you. I’m going to slow down a bit now so I can spend more time playing with you and talking to you and TICKLINg YOU!!!!
Ella: (crazed laughter)
Me: Does that sound cool?
Ella: Can I have your hair-band?
Ah yeah. Back to reality.
2 comments:
Hi Jen
Like the look of the new site; thought I'd be your first comment. Well done on the dirty weekend away (and the newspaper article). Personal satisfaction AND professional happiness in less than a week- who could ask for more?
Yes I know, I'm waiting to implode just from the sheer impossibility of it all.
And thanks for breaking the comments' virginity. There can only be one...
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