Returning to work

This is great, I’m a real person again, no one’s even acknowledged that I was ever off, I’m busy. I’m doing something, I am contributing to the turning of the world, everything is going to be ok, no one is asking me if I’m alright every five bloody minutes, no one is looking at me with their head cocked slightly to the right like I might die in front of them, lovely , just normal and lovely… Mind you, maybe one “so how are you doing?” would be nice, I mean I was off for a while, it would just be polite for someone to acknowledge that I’ve been away and not well… Would it kill someone just to ask me if it all went ok, you know, because it was all quite traumatic you know, I wasn’t just off with the bloody flu or something, someone cut me open…A LOT…No, this is good, no special treatment, just normal… Honestly?! Nothing at all?! No one’s even acknowledged that I was ever off!

Bastards.

Excuse me Mr

I found out the other day that someone I used to know has a my space page, and I was sat here thinking I would like to write all about how cliched it is that someone would have a my space page, like who the hell do you think you are to create something all about you on the internet and expect people to read it and actually be interested in your life when essentially you're not actually a very interesting person, you're just... a person.

And then I realised that I was about to write this rant on my fucking blog.

So then I played Tragic Kingdom at a very loud volume and thought about how much easier it was to not have anything to do with people you hated when there was no internet.

I must be better...

...because I am bored!

Like, my brain is going to explode, itchy feet, I might go running or redecorate my house or mow the lawn or drive to Scotland or dance naked in my bedroom at night with the lights on and the curtains open kind of bored.

So there we have it, the first week I was out of the hospital I was so poorly that I couldn't get bored, there was no room in my "POOR ME" mentality for boredom, I was literally surviving minute to minute, then the second week, I was kind of up for getting off the sofa but though the mind was willing, the body was weak. Now it'e the beginning of week three and yes! I am bored! I never thought I would be so happy to be so frustrated by not doing anything!

I have bought stuff on Ebay that I shouldn't have bought (vintage dress and glittery eyeliners, I don't know when I'm going to wear the eyeliners, last time I looked electric blue glittery eyes were not a pre-requisite for working in an FE college, but you know, Florence might not be as classy as I think) and I have a watch list of Nikon D70's that I am praying will one day unearth one that's less than £450. no luck yet....

But I did see Ian McKellan's penis on friday night, so that was aewsome (that man has nothing to be ashamed of, NOTHING, and I was in the circle....). We had tickets for the RSC's production of King Lear with Sir Ian playing the tortured patriarc and it was wonderful, not cheery wonderful, a kind of wow, they gouged out BOTH his eyes didn't they?! Right there in front of me... Gross! There was some unnecessary but fascinating nudity and Sylvester McCoy was hung right before Glenn didn't buy me ice cream in the interval. Yep, Trevor Nunn killed Dr Who, and not before time...

I have uploaded tonnes of photo's onto Flickr, where my account name is Spanairspan, because unbelievably, there is already a spanair! So I guess that means two of us will be sued when we are discovered by the literary world and the airline takes umbrage at us using their name to make millions.

Here is a photo of my eyes as a teaser... Let us not mention my giant nose, I said let us NOT.

Hello healthy people! Jealous? Me? Noooo........

So Hi there! I did not die, not I did not, and that must be said, it must be repeated over and over because this convalesance thing is like an alternate slow death, one in which I make decisions to do stuff and then my body says noooo, no you will not do that, you will not do that at all...

Like yesterday, I got up at around 10, I tidied up a bit, watched a lo-hot of tv and then felt so bright and positive in the evening that I had a little dance in my kitchen to Stevie Wonder, and I felt good about that, so good in fact that I today I thought well get me, and my dancing, I'm going to go out! So I walked to the train station (Stevie on the Ipod for motivation), and took a train into town where Glenn and I had lunch and then I perused the sales. Then it started, the shaking, and the slightly cold feeling, and the horrible nagging voice in my head that said if I was not back lying on my bed within the hour then I would be lying on the floor at New St station and which do you prefer? huh? huh? which one?!

So I went home, and lay down, and finally, finally gave in to it.

Being sick sucks.

The operation lasted 4 hours, but blessed be my surgeon, he managed to do the whole thing through keyholes, rather than the large incision I was living in fear of and NO COLOSTOMY! DO YOU HEAR ME WORLD?! NO FUCKING COLOSTOMY!!!!

Lots of morphine though, I came back into the world after the operation and was adament that I had not had enough pain relief, I was convinced of it, so I kept asking for more and they kept telling me I'd had a lot and I kept asking for more and well, nobody wins that game. I was still asking for more when Glenn turned up and he held my hand and talked me through it until the Golden Hour when the morphine came back.

Anyway, I don't know if anyone's reading this anymore, I have been neglectful of my blog and I may never be forgiven, but the point is, I'm out the otherside and although I'm being stubborn and not taking it quite easy enough, I'm getting there.

I received five lots of flowers, an orchid, four boxes of chocolates, a tonne of cards, a package of all kinds of exciting stuff all the way from Australia and to top it all off, grapes.

Being sick maybe does not suck so much, no?

Many stories about excessive bleeding, uncontrollable vomiting, the auxillary nurse from hell, anti-biotics that taste like rotten eggs which surely were engineered by the nazi's and unexpected fevers to come, can you even contain your excitement? I thought not.

Conversation with an anaesthetist

Him: Do you remember the name of the anaesthetist who put you to sleep the last time you were here?

Me: No, but I do remember that he asked me if there was anything I enjoyed about having surgery, which I have to say, I thought was a little weird.

Him: Ha ha, yes we're sometimes a bit odd.

Me: Uh huh, you need to spend more time around people who are awake.

Happy Birthday Me!

Last week I humiliated myself in front of Richard Madeley, this week, I spent two days working on the island that looked straight out of the wicker man.

Looks like 26 is going to be a weird one.

Work Conversation, no really, this was at work...

The phone rings, so I pick it up...

Me: Hello

Him: Hello is that Hannah?

Me: Yes, can I help you?

Him: This is C from XXX, I emailed you yesterday about whether you can get involved in a project we're doing at Y but you haven't responded.

Me: No, I'm sorry I didn't get it until late last night and I'm actually working on the isle of wight today so I'm a little busy.

Him; Yes, I know where you are, I rang R and found out.

Me: Oh

Him: So can you attend a meeting on the 9th?

Me: I'm afraid that's a little short notice as today is the 8th and I have to be somewhere else tomorrow. Also, I'm actually going off work for about 8 weeks next week so if this project is getting off the ground earlier than that you might want to look for someone else.

Him: Are you having a hysterectomy?

Me: Excuse me?

Him: Are. you. having. a. hysterectomy?

Me: Er, no.

Him; My wife's just had one.

Me: Right, I see, I'm er, sorry about that... but I'm not having one.

Him: Are you sure?

Me: Yes, quite sure.

Him: Women's things though is it?

Me: It's personal.

Him: Right, well I'll see when we were looking for you to get involved and let you know.

Me: Ok, right, thanks.

Him: Bye

Me: Bye.

Me: Fucking lunatic.

Crazy, and I know I absolutely did not take any drugs last night..... or did I?

Last night I dreamt that I lived in a commune with my boyfriend who in my dream was a man that I work with, we'll call him Ricky, because that is his name.

Anyway, the commune was this big old victorian mansion and I went out for a walk, where upon I was attacked by my ex-boyfriend who in my dream was my ex-boyfriend, we'll call him Dave, because that is his name. I see him crossing the front garden and I try and hide behind a tree but he sees me and runs towards me screaming "You think you can break up with me with a note? A NOTE?! I've been waiting for this for four years you bitch!",

Incidentally, I did not break up with him with a note, I broke up with him over the phone and then ignored his calls for 3 months so I wouldn't have to deal with him, I'm nice like that.

So he pushes me into a hedge and someone in the hedge grabs my shoulders so I can't move and he's hitting me and screaming at me, and it's then that I notice Phil Mitchell is lying next to me bleeding from a shotgun wound to the stomach and looking very pale. I look over and Ricky is calling the police from his hiding place which is on top of a rotary washing line in the middle of the front garden, and all these police cars come screaming up the drive. Someone pulls Dave off me and I shout "Phil! Someone has to help Phil Mitchell! He's been shot", but when I look down Phil Mitchell's not there anymore but I can see that the person who grabbed my shoulders in the hedge is a woman half sticking out of a crashed car and was just trying to get me to help her.

The End

I may never go sleep again.

I think I may take drugs sometimes and then not remember....

I found an old notebook hidden in my laptop bag and was having a flick through to see if there was any information that I needed to keep before I threw it away when I noticed that I make no sense whatsoever and it is a miracle I can function as a living human at all.

Things what I wrote in notebook;

Things that have happened since I posted which was quite a while ago now –

Painted bathroom, disaster
Gym, pain, energy.
Sex (question – should you write about your sex life on the internet?)

The answer is no by the way, in case you were wondering what I decided about that, and you should never, ever, write about your vibrator, it disturbs people….

Go to Amsterdam

Right… Ok then….

Drop card off for Matt

I can only apologise to Matt if I didn’t, I can’t remember doing it but you see? I have good intentions!

Liz – Saturday wedding

I don’t know if I was telling her to get married on a Saturday or if that was the name of something, either way she’s getting married on a Wednesday so it shows how much I know.

Why did talk to at office holiday

Drunk, must have been.

If the F.St is FE then the LA REF must exist in FE AV with a valid status for current ac yr, but not for new starters or re-sits.
N=09 XX excluding C I K M O V or whole must be spaces
A09_A10_A20_A27_LAD 6

Stunningly, that’s pretty much the only thing in the whole notebook which makes perfect sense to me.

Send apologies to Bryan

I don’t know anyone called Bryan.

Keep photocopy of

What?

Liza was a proper gypsy!

That’s true actually.

Do it! Do it do it do it do it!!!

DO WHAT?!

Michael H has unnaturally feminine hands

Also true.

Ethnicity – Learning difficulties, DONE!

Ohkaaaay…….

Is there a skip nearby I can put the garden rubbish in during the night?

Ha ha! We are sooooooo cheap….

GP thinks what JV wants

Again, true…

ROJO – Indian next to Solihull Ice Rink, meet Aimee at 8

Turned out to be an Italian and I should have met her at 7.

Dirty London junkies stole my Fiorelli purse

Now that’s true but I’m not sure why I was so upset because I actually bought the purse from TK Maxx…..

Nokia 6210 – Worth £100

That’s me planning insurance fraud.

But my absolute favourite is this;

Kevin, room 7, mount over desk.

I don’t know who Kevin is, but wow! He sure got lucky….

Trying to find a gift....

Me: Hey, check this one out, for $99 I can send them the luxury beer gift hamper

Him: That, get them that.

Me: And if I send that what will I be sending her?

Him: His happiness.

Later

Me: I give up, I can't find anything, the only kind of flowers this company will deliver over there is a wreath.

Him: I'm saying nothing.... absolutely nothing.

Just lovely lovely lovely.

I get this email, and I'm sat next to my boss and the first thing I think as I click on the photo is 'yeah, if he turns round now and sees me looking at this picture I'm not going to be the most popular person in the office...', then as the picture loads and I can see what it is my phone rings, at which point I pick it up and scream "OH MY GOD I JUST GOT YOUR EMAIL AND I WAS GOING TO SCREAM THROUGH THE MEDIUM OF EMAIL BUT NOW I CAN SCREAM AT YOU!!" and then I run out the office and spend half an hour on the phone.

Probably no pay rise this year.

But I don't care, because my beautiful best friend is getting married and that's one of the best reasons in the world not to give a stuff what your boss thinks about how you waste your day (let's face it, it was either talk on the phone or look for wedding dresses that don't look like parachutes on the internet to send to her, either way after news like this I certainly wasn't about to actually work).

It's just totally brilliant, they're two people who bring happiness to everyone around them and have brought each other the kind of peace and contentment most of us can only wish for. Truly they were made for each other (and I mean that in the nicest possible way, not like when someone said I was made for Glenn and what they actually meant was it's really my only function in life so if he ever leaves me I should probably just die because really? What would be the point after that?) and didn't the boy do well with the ring?! It's perfect.

But I digress, this post is about the commitment Selena and Matt want to make to each other and the beautiful family they are going to create (hopefully with babies rather than cats, weird).

I don't feel at all ready for such a huge commitment, and as such I feel masses of admiration for those who are, so to Selena and Matt and Liz and Gareth, I hope the worst days of the rest of your life are only as bad as the happiest days you've already had (I can't possibly be clever enough to have thought that up, must have seen it on a greeting card somewhere....).

Just remember Moch, you're not the only one who's handy with a scrapbook and a pritstick.....

Conversation with my sister

Her: They're actually really nice

Me: See, I told you! And they're good for you.

Her: But you've made so many, where are you going to put them?

Me: I've got some tupperware.... damn it!

Her: What?

Me: I don't have any tupperware big enough for my muffins.

Her: I can't believe you just said that.

Me: What?

Her: You are like, 50 years old, it's embarassing.

Me: You smell like glastonbury.

Her: What?

Me: You. Smell. Like. Glastonbury, you smell like the third day of glastonbury, when the beer stains have been sat in the sun and the air is tinged with the urine smell drifting over the site from the cow shed toilets.

Her: It's my coat, I didn't take it off in the club last night and it smells like mouldy fags.

Me: Well for gods sake take it off.

Her: Never mind that I think I'm going to be sick.

Me: Not in my car you're not, GET OUT! GETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!!!

Her: Old lady

Me: Stinking hobo.

Inner Monologue of a rampant shopaholic who will not be saved

Ok, it’s ok, you’re just on your lunch hour and that means we go straight to Boots to get a sandwich, do not stop at The Bodyshop walk, straight past Next, do not stop and look in Wallis oooh there’s a new New Look open why didn’t I know about that? Oooh lovely biba style sixties smocks over a polo neck, that would look so sweet with black trousers NO you bought that jumper and a dress on Saturday you do NOT need anything else… well maybe we’ll just look in NO walk OUT of New Look, ignore the pretty colours. Right, Boots Boots Boots Boots Boots Boots ah that’s nice, all monochrome and tied around the waist I wonder how much NO, I FORBID YOU TO BUY ANYTHING FROM A SHOP THAT’S CALLED QUIZ AND SMELLS LIKE POUNDSTRETCHER! Phew, that was close, onto Boots, must make it to Boots mmmmmmmm 70% off at Monsoon maybe I’ll just have a little OH MY GOD clearly you cannot be trusted out in public, get out! GET OUT OF THE SHOPPING CENTRE! You’ll just have to go without lunch.

Peacocks?

PEACOCKS?! What is wrong with you woman?!

Think of Hong Kong, concentrate on Hong Kong, eye on the prize Davis eye on the prize…

But I’ll have to be dressed in Hong…

NO. Better to be naked in Hong Kong than dressed in Birmingham

You are not a very good rationalist

I know.

Conversation at a party after a christening

Me: Mother, are you wearing a rubber skirt?

Her: I am not!

Me: I think you are, I was looking at it in the church, that is definately some kind of rubber.

Her: I can assure you it isn't.

Me: Well you could wipe it clean that's for sure. You are a classy lady.

Later

Me: I think the baby is funny looking

Him: Yeah, bit of a squishy face and a big head.

Me: We were born to be parents.

Him: But only to babies who are quiet and normal looking.

Me: Of course.

Conversation at a christening

Me: You should be so fat.

Him: Eh?

Me: Look at you, stuffing fried chicken down your throat like we're on the eve of the apocalypse and you will never get to eat again, and still you're the thinnest person here!

Him: I'm not the thinnest person here, she is. and he points

Me: She's nine months old.

Him: Still counts.

Saturday night conversation

Me: Bored, I'm just so bloody bored, just sitting here is just so. Fucking. Boring.

Him: Well what do you want to do?

Me: I don't know! I've just got to do something, all this doing nothing is doing my head in.

Him: But when I ask you to think of something we can do you can't think of anything!

Me: I know, but that's because we're trying not to spend any money, there is nothing to do for free.

Him: If you want nice things and to go to nice places you have to sacrifice to get them.

Me: What do other people do when they've got no money?

Him: They sit at home and watch TV.

Me: And that is exactly why people kill themselves. I WILL NOT SURVIVE THIS.

Him: Yes you will, now get me a beer.

Me:

Him: Yeah now you just look cross.

Me: The ice is thin where you live.

Him: I know.

Shortlisting

Can you give a person a job based entirely on them listing 'travelling in my camper van' in their hobbies and interests, admittedly she has no experience, but we could be friends!

30 applications down, 13 to go........

Doofus

I spend an hour on the phone to Moch, she urges me to SET UP SKYPE YOU LAZY WOMAN! So I do, I get all the stuff out the box and set everything up and connect this wire to that wire and bingo! My work is done, I download stuff and install stuff and woo hoo! Check me out! A technical guru worthy of a job for an software based management company (hang on a second....), what other wondrous things can I accomplish today I wonder? Maybe I will re-decorate the bedrooms, finish the loft boards, make a quilt, bake a cake, landscape the garden.... But hang on, let's start with something small and work my way up to Nigella like status... I will put away the clothes in the spare room, some tunes I think, click on itunes, select track, hit play...

Where is the music?

There is no music....

Oh I have done something stupid, I have fucked up the PC, I have broken the speakers, I have set fire to something internal and eventually the wires will implode, the house will crumble and they will find me underneath the rubble clinging to a USB cable mumbling "why.....", but no, here it is! here! the speaker cable has come out! THIS I CAN FIX! Just need to plug it back in... God I'm good, wow.... where the hell do you plug it in? this one? No that's not aerosmith, that's just lots of obnoxious crackles... here? no, again with the crackles, Ah ha! This must be the... No.

Silence.

This must be what is was like in the war.

Wherein I throw my toys out of the pram with such force my boss spins around and around and around and around and around.

Yesterday I did the previously unthinkable and I said no to my boss, this has come at no small personal cost to my dignity as despite mentally chanting “be professional, be professional, be professional”, all sense of pride left me and I cried down the phone like a child. To which he said this;

“…………………………….riiiiiiiiiight…………….. I’ll call you back”.

And then he didn’t call me back for another seven hours, he emailed me back and basically said no was not an option, so I called someone else and, despite mentally chanting “pull yourself together, pull yourself together, pull yourself together”, I managed to cry again.

Oh dignity, you have left me, I have now lost the label of Hannah who will go anywhere and do anything and must now live with being Hannah who will go most places and do certain things but not others and will cry if you try and make her.

Wow, I didn’t know I was capable of such wanton career sabotage, turns out, I totally am.

In actualy truth, I'm really not ready but I think it's something in my genes.....

So this person called Kate at work brings her two year old in first thing before the college nursery opens, and every morning this little girl (Maisie) scowls at me, and every day I say hello, and she scowls and ocassionally cries at the very sight of me, then this morning, she looked me up and down, then opened her arms and said "hug!", and I said "really?" and she said "hug!", so we had a cuddle, and then as I pulled away she pursed her little lips and stuck her face towards me and I said "kiss?", and she nodded, so I had a little kiss and MY OVARIES EXPLODED, ohmygod I think I'm going to have to have a baby or I might shrivel up and die.

That is all.