The good news: I haven't killed V.
The bad news: There are 3 Eversharp knives at home, all occasionally posing great temptation.
My cousin T says I shouldn't write so openly on my blog, and who knows, she's probably right about that, so all those would-be-weirdos out there, the last bit is also for you.
Warning aside, another hectic weekend passed. Tech rehearsal yesterday. Those who have no idea of what happens before a play is shown, that is when we book the hall and try to work out lights/sounds/sets etc. and, preferably, go through the play once just as if it were a proper show. It's more hectic than a show day, obviously, and yesterday was no different.
I was thinking though, on my way to work this morning, that I could take on much more work last year. In Uni I was used to being in fifty million different places each day and getting work done in each of them. I would wake up early in the morning and run around till night and somehow be in one piece and wake up again the next morning and do all of that all over again. Yes, I would get tired, but not so weary as I do now. And I would quite frequently skip meals, which I cannot imagine doing now. Not just because of the voracious appetite but also because I'm convinced if I don't have my Kurkure just when my body craves it I will probably give birth to a child who will not be able to digest phuchka. My mother says that's impossible, but we all know how Psmith says we must distinguish the Impossible from the Improbable. Given the child will be mine, anything is possible, really. It might even turn vegan, in which case it will go against everything I believe in and I will just have to shoot it. In which case all the trouble I'm taking now will have been an utter waste of time. V says I spend too much time thinking rubbish. I say he doesn't know what can happen when his genes meet my genes. We both come from weird families.
I miss my waist.
And just think of it, if the kid tires me out so easily when the brat ain't even born, what will
happen when it reaches toddler-stage? I intend to model myself along the lines of Mother Dooce who is eminiently sensible and very, very practical. For those who wonder what parenthood can be like, I recommend her site.
Cousin T's reprimand is still in my head and so I will perhaps not go into more detail than this, but I would also like to point out, I am not really as expansive as folks think I am. I know I give my name but that's easy to find out. And what I write about doesn't tell readers as much about my actual life as folks think they do. Of course, she said what she did to point out that relatives can also read my blog. And I say what I said months ago, let them. I swore to myself that post-marriage I would just not wear a mask for the families, either mine or V's. If I'm not good enough for them the way I am, it's not my loss really. And I say that very seriously. Taken me a long time to be able to say it, but I mean it now and don't intend to be apologetic about that. If people read stuff here that they didn't know about me, it was because they didn't think to ask me.