12th September 2005
Hi all,
Last week I was trying to enjoy a well-earned week off work. I say "trying" because when you're an expectant father with a list of things to do as long as your arm enjoying your time off isn't necessarily that easy. Witness the following:
Saturday: Go to various DIY stores, picking up countless pots of paint and other knick-knacks, prepare for upcoming painting duties. Think about upcoming task and think that it isn't as daunting as doing the living room, as it is a) considerably smaller, and b) free of wallpaper. Relax and enjoy the comedy Spanish singer on The X-Factor.
Sunday: Start painting the ceiling in the evening. Think to myself that as if painting white-on-white and remembering where you are isn't a difficult enough task to begin with, then doing it under artificial light makes the job even more difficult. At least it is more fun than tackling the garden - I'm not impressed with the strimmer we bought at the same time as the paint.
Monday: Hospital visit day! So far I've joined Lorraine for just two of her check-ups, allowing legions of relatives and friends to go along with her in my absence.
I'm quickly reminded of why I didn't enjoy my two previous visits - I hate the waiting room, for so many reasons it isn't true. It isn't designed with men in mind. There are a handful of women's magazines on hand amid a room full of politically correct posters, it's as if Raj Persaud has been a guest presenter on "House Doctor" for a week.
And then there are the other expectant Mums. Some with dull friends, others with dull expressions. Then there are those who are already Mums, shrieking things like "You're nae getting any sweeties!" Perhaps they should get people to visit this room before they start trying for a baby?
Well just my luck, we had to wait in there for an hour and a quarter before Lorraine had her first appointment. Add in a torturous additional twenty minutes before her second appointment and that was my morning. Joyous. And on top of that they took some blood from Lorraine to try and make me pass out (thankfully I didn't, although perhaps that would have been a blessing had it happened).
So that was my morning. It was enough to merit a trip to Subway, where unfortunately my sub was accompanied by a flat Pepsi. Thankfully the sub was good enough to spur me into action in the afternoon, as I started to cover the walls in light yellow paint. I worked pretty much most of the afternoon and evening, planning my late evening break to coincide with the end of the Braves-Mets game on NASN. I happen to come down the stairs at the business end of proceedings, and am settled enough to see Chipper Jones give the Braves the lead with a home run. "That's it," says Lorraine, "The Braves have won." She takes the remote and starts watching "He's Having A Baby" on BBC3. Clearly she has no idea what the Braves' bullpen is like this year. Unsurprisingly I'm not happy, given that it is my first break of the day. I resort to following the rest of the game on the internet. The Braves do win, and my mood lifts a little, although 20% of my week off has passed.
Tuesday: We take Cookie over to East Kilbride for breakfast. Yes, during my week off Lorraine and I planned to be somewhere for 9.30am. Really clever for us to make that arrangement.
Needless to say the big winner was Cookie, who can be up at any time at a moment's notice. I guess dogs have it easy, no need to shave, brush teeth, wash, etc. Just get up and go. It was a shame Lorraine's Mum couldn't join us in walking him around Stewartfield Loch.
I returned home and carried on decorating for the rest of the day. Before I knew it 40% of my week off had passed.
Wednesday: Our fourth wedding anniversary. I was adamant I wasn't doing any decorating today, or anything that could be considered work. Unfortunately there were still distractions, like me distracting my wife so I could go and buy her flowers. Then the weather took a turn for the worst and we just ended up going for an early dinner at The Royal Blossom in Hamilton. All you can eat Chinese buffet, mmmm. I could have done with one of those Hannibal Lectar trolleys to wheel me out of there.
(And yes, I didn't see a moment of the Northern Ireland-England game. Lucky for me.)
Oh, and that's 60% of my week off gone.
Thursday: Over to East Kilbride again, leaving Lorraine to go shopping with her Mum while I venture into Glasgow to get on with some other tasks. Returning to Lorraine's parents for dinner we're encouraged to decorate well before the baby is born. For some reason Lorraine and I had decided to let them see our decorating rather than be told about it, so we got the "decorate now" message early and often. I'm sure you could imagine how much I enjoyed that.
We came home via more DIY stores and continued decorating. 80% of my week off gone.
Friday: Up early to take the car into the garage for a service. Unfortunately winter seemed to have arrived early, soaking me on the walk home. After viewing some of the recording of another Braves win over the Mets (get in!) I was back up and decorating again. When Lorraine was up we started looking at where needed a further brush here and there. As it turned out, pretty much everywhere needed it.
When a Friday at the end of a week off is over with I consider the weekend to be just like any other. In other words my week off had finished.
Saturday: More refining touches, yet more work and yet another visit to a DIY store. At least there is a Palace win over Hull City to lighten the mood, and the repeat of the Spanish singer's antics. "Somer-where, hoova the hhhrrainbow..."
Sunday: A day off to end the week, enjoy a bit of the sunshine, put things back in place in the room and then enjoy a Dolphins win on Sky. To end this week's instalment on a happy note I'll not mention the power cut or yet another visit to yet another DIY store.
(Give me strength!)
Have a good week (stay away from home when you have a week off)!
Tony
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