The Joy of Life

It feels like I've been insanely busy over the last month. But now I've come to write about it, I can't think what I've been up to. Let's see ...

Work has been better (if a lot more uncertain and precarious). I've steered things my own way on the next issue of the magazine and, as a result, I think it's looking like the best one yet. I've also been expending a lot of time and effort on my 'chocolate-dipped carrots' mission to show other areas of the company how to improve their communications and write things that people will actually take notice of. (I had originally planned to go down the road of 'big stick' mission, until my boss told me - repeatedly - that there were no sticks.)

I'm also getting to go on a scriptwriting course run by the BBC, which I'm very excited about.

After four weeks off allowing the eyes to recover, I've been at the pool every morning. The snogging couple have mysteriously disappeared and seem to have been replaced by touchy-feely dive-bombing couple. The new eyes are brilliant under the water and I don't have to faff about trying to get my eyes to accept contact lenses at 6:30 in the morning.

I wear a swim cap because the chlorine was ruining the colour of my hair. I look thoroughly mingin' and think I'd die if someone actually recognised me. Last week, when I'd been swimming for about 10 minutes, I stopped at the end, ran my hand round the back of my head, and realised that I hadn't tucked my hair into the cap. It must have looked like I was wearing it for reasons of fashion rather than necessity. How embarrassing. (Though still not as embarrassing as the time I failed to notice my swimsuit had ripped itself open across my chest until I was out the pool and walking to the showers.)

Talking about hair, Emma cut me a fuller fringe last weekend. I've been growing my hair for over three years now and I get really bored just asking for the same thing, so I thought a fringe would give me a bit of a change without getting in the way of my Rapunzelesque plans. I really like it and think it makes me look younger. Two people have complimented me on it on Facebook and Kirsty at work said it was "much better" - which kinda made it sound like it was awful before, but she clarified that she didn't think it was bad before, it's just "much better" now. (Kirsty is very honest. She'll actually tell women she doesn't know whether or not something suits them in the changing rooms. Harsh, but helpful.)

I've been out to see Leanne, Ella and baby Holly a few times. Holly is cute as a button but does scream her head off a lot more than Ella ever did. I was saying to Leanne that Holly cries with such force that her features disappear and she looks like Cartman in South Park when he gets angry - just a face with a cross on it. It must be really, really exhausting for Leanne.

The woman at my work who kept telling me to hurry up and have kids has abated her efforts somewhat. I found a successful way of getting her to shut up was to answer her truthfully whenever she asked what I was up to at the weekend: cocktails with friends at Harvey Nick's, long weekend in Berlin, girly-weekend up North, dinner cooked by 'date-guy', long run on the beach, shopping for new boots, coffee and a book in Waterstones, etc. And then wait for the golden silcence that always follows. I realise my existence my seem shallow, but it's always really good fun.

I still assume I'll feel like I want to have kids at some stage, but it does seem like there's ever more to compromise, sacrifice and risk. Someone recently told me about their experience of giving birth and having to be stitched up again. There was concern that she'd "ripped right through", so the doctor stuck a finger into her ass, wiggled it around and said "No, no, we're fine". Then she heard them saying things like: "I'm not sure where this bit goes", "well, you won't be quite the same as you were before", and "There won't be any blood getting to this bit, so we may as well cut it off". She still doesn't know what they cut off. I reassuringly told her it was probably her clitoris. I swear, I almost fainted when she was telling me this story.

What else ...

I've started fitness training with the army twice a week. Outside in the cold and dark. My experiences with this merit an entry on their own, so I'll write that up soon. I've also signed myself up for a 5K in January, a half marathon (yikes) in April and a 10K in May. I've also bullied Louise at work into running twice a week at lunchtimes with me.

Oh, and I'm just back from a family trip to Berlin (again, I'll write this one up more fully on its own). After all the Christmas markets, I feel distinctively 'Christmassy' and sent out the invitations to my Blessing of the Tree parties, booked in my boozy lunch sessions and will shortly be getting the tree down from the attic. Well, after I've had today's chocolate from my advent calendar.