Up The Farway Tree

I saw my GP last week and he signed me off work for a month to see if I could get on top of things health wise. I must admit to be feeling a lot better, and also more energetic. Its hard to say whether this is due to just finishing my antibiotics or due to not being at work. I suspect its a combination of the two. So far I am not feeling bored or fed up, but I think this is because I plan to get back to work in a few weeks so it just feels like I'm on holiday just now. I do have a meeting with work this week to discuss reducing my hours, so in my own way I'm trying to be sensible. I know in the long term, working might not be helpful, but at the moment its best just to humour me. Everyone else does.

So what have I been doing with all this free time? I have been internet shopping. Oh yes. Christmas has started early in this house and there is no stopping me now. I have many excuses for this ridiculous behaviour, including the fear of becoming unwell mid-December with no shopping done (been there, done that) and also the fact I'm hopefully going to be at home when the parcels arrive. Last year I was no stranger to finding those little 'sorry we missed' you cards sporting a miniature map directing me to a collection depot 10 miles from my house, in some dodgy industrial estate (the kind where drug deals take place after dark), only to collect an item I probably could have bought in the corner shop. This year, I plan to receive all internet purchases before I return to work.

This great plan is already looking flawed. Why is it that when the post man is bringing junk mail and bills, he arrives around midday when I am sitting on the sofa, washed, dressed and looking serene; but when he is bringing parcels he arrives early in the morning when I am either in bed, on the toilet, or in a state of undress. I therefore arrive at the door with my hair at right angles to my scalp, my dressing gown on backwards over the infamous mismatched pyjamas whilst waving frantically at Seb shouting loudly "get back, get back! It's not for you". The postman's timing is uncanny, and I feel it goes beyond coincidence. Either he is in cahoots with the window cleaner, or they are in fact, one in the same.

In an effort to distract me from my internet shopping spree, and I suspect to try and save my sanity, mum has asked me to paint her a picture for her bedroom. Funnily enough this involved more shopping, as Andrew had to drive me into town to collect some supplies. Namely a canvas I could hardly carry and a bag full of paints. I have no idea what I am actually going to paint yet, and I do have a bad habit of just getting stuck in with no prior planning so its anybody's guess really. My main objective is simply to keep Seb's paws out of the paint, as on a previous occasion he stuck his two front paws in some bright orange paint. Had I been thinking clearly, I would have let him walk over a canvas, called it art, and sold it on ebay for a small fortune. You live and learn.