I’ve just not felt in the right frame of mind to blog of late – the words aren’t there. My cheerful fairy has obviously packed her bags and left for warmer climates and who could blame her, it’s sodding cold around here.

My health thank the Gods has at long last started to improve but only because I continue to use both of my inhalers. Mind you quite a few people I know seem to be having a few problems of late, so maybe it’s just the time of year. I seem to have hit my all time low and I’m climbing out of the pit of despair - where I’ve felt very sorry for myself and wallowed in self pity. And let’s be honest it’s the only pity worth having when you’re in that sort of mood. After all no one else is going to feel sorry for you with quite the same amount of continuing conviction, dedication and effort that you put in yourself – they will either not notice, not be bothered or get bored with your morose attitude very quickly and then ignore it or hide. To be honest, there was a point when I did consider hiding from myself.

It was around that time that someone nicked my sense of humour I think – I just couldn’t see the funny side of anything going wrong. Little things that I would normally find a funny story to tell you about just weren’t funny anymore – just upsetting instead. I got to the point at one stage where I actually started to dread what the day would bring – it’s like walking around with a knot of apprehension in your stomach. You can’t say why, but you are in a state of anxiety all the time. The pressures of work obviously haven’t helped – the FC is still off so I’m carrying some of his workload, we’re moving premises and this time instead of renting we’re buying and also bidding for a extremely large contract – all on top of everyday work. Christmas is fast approaching and I hadn’t done anything and then Child’s wedding is getting closer as well.

So last Thursday Himself and I hit the shops and after 8 hours of pure hell – knocked the Christmas present buying on the head. All bar one pair of jeans for youngest and that was only because I couldn’t remember his waist size. I’ve not gone mad this year, with the wedding coming up I can’t afford too but we’ve remembered everyone and that is one worry I can put to bed.

I hate shopping at the best of times, but Christmas shopping is the pits. It’s not so much the mums with pushchairs these days – even worse than that are cantankerous elderly people with those shopping basket things with wheels. You know the sort that I’m on about - they either pull them behind them in a wild erratic manner, making sure that as soon as you try to pass them they step in front of you and you nearly fall over the bloody thing. Or it’s one of those walkers that they push in front of them with a seat on – they obviously have a tally going at the local day centre as to how many pedestrians ankles they can bruise. And of course it’s all your fault for getting in their way.

Mind you even worse than that is having to wrap everything up when you get home – you can’t find the end of the sellotape, then you lose the sellotape, then you lose the scissor and eventually you lose all your Christmas spirit and the will to live. *Waily, Waily.*

So the blog won’t be daily for a while – thank you for those that have continued to visit and been met with the same blog they’ve seen every day for a week. I’m not saying I’m going to stop – just that it will not happen as often as it used to for a while.