So Reader, I have discovered that I am entirely unmotivated. Actors are supposed to run around like headless chickens attempting to find work aren't they? Well, I've been spending most of my time trying to earn enough dosh from the call centre job to fund a romantic stay in Brighton (for mine and the Lad's second anniversary, about which more later) and feed my addiction to weight watchers cakes (the only way I can shovel my face with chocolate brownies and stay slim-ish). It might have something to do with the fact that I am doing some filming in a couple of weeks (as I think I most likely mentioned in one of my recent blogs), plus there are a few bits and bobs in the pipeline. One of the most exciting things is that someone who directed me in a play back at Uni when I was but a mere English and American Literature student is making a short film of said play and wants me to come back as the character I played. Now, this is exciting anyway, being a chance to do a lovely script; add to that that it was one of my fave plays that I did in 3 years at uni, that we had more fun rehearsing than is usually allowed and that the director/writer is one of my top 10 (at least!) people from uni and it gets positively delightful. I want it to be happening now in fact, but this is slightly silly as there is a lot of organisation that goes into making a film. Like fundraising. And getting crew. And the rest of the cast. It wouldn't happen for AGES if it did go ahead. However, I am still sitting here thinking about how marvellous it would be.
Back to the 2nd anniversary with the Lad. Technically it's this Thursday, but his boss wouldn't let him have the time off to go to Brighton then (stinky boss). Well, actually, someone quit with short notice, so the boss didn't have much choice. Then we were going to do it the week after but again, work. Then the week after that but now there's sadly a funeral that week so the poor boy is spending his days off on that. So the mini-break has had to be postponed. Now, this is probably a good idea as it gives me something to look forward to, to lift my mood when some sarky upper class politics student has just had a wanky go at me on the phone at work about how 'charitable giving is unjustified in this day and age' (yes, this really has happened). Also, it will give me time to make sure my legs are silky smooth and exfoliated and moisturised within an inch of their lives. You know, in case it's sunny and we decide to go for a swim. Or it's so warm that I have to bare my legs in a summer dress. Reader, I know this is unlikely, but I have to dream. The sad truth that even if said legs were buffed and slathered with creams every day for 3 weeks, they'll still be whiter than bedsheets from The White Company and covered in bruises from where I fall over constantly or knock into my bedframe (have had it for a year or so, but every time I get up to go to the loo I knock into it. What twat makes a leg-bone level bed frame that comes out all the way around the bed anyway? Bloody designers.) For our actual anniversary we're off to our fave Diner, where we go for pretty much every celebration you could think of. We're a bit dull like that. But we saw Jude Law in there once and now live in hope of spotting other celebs whilst we munch on our french toast and fries. Then off home, where we will probably do our usual and watch something amusing on the telly whilst eating chocolatey goodies!
Mother's day today, and I have to say, I've done quite brilliantly. Started the say by getting her breakfast order, then roused the brat teenage brother and brought up breakfast in bed along with the Sunday Times, flowers, pressies and a card (from me, Brat teenage brother forgot his. He says he brought one. I am doubtful. He did remember to get her fave flowers though, so points for that.). Next I cleaned the house top to bottom and raced to get ready to make it to Asda to do the weekly shop before the rellies came over (lovely Irish mafia grandparents, new parents uncle Chris and aunt Heather and uncle John, all on mum's side of the family). Back home with just enough time to put shopping away, yell at brother and dad for stinking out entire house with their smelly egg dishes just before we had guests, light scented candles (Brat Teenage Brother-BTB-Thinks they smell worse than the egg), set up tea time delights and put on some lovely back ground music (n.b. having i-pod on speakers and shuffle can be dangerous, especially when Peaches' 'Fuck the pain away' is near the top of the list). Serve tea, clear up, cook wheat free, low cal dinner from scratch, clear up, follow up with low cal, wheat free Crepe Suzette (culinary genius by the way) then kiss mother good night and collapse in an exhausted heap. I think she enjoyed her day so that's a relief!
Right, I have a small ginger cat yelling at my window with a sad look on his face, so I'd better let him in.
Till next time Reader!