Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful. Norman Vincent Peale
Okay I've finally given into the inevitable - Christmas is rapidly approaching. I put the tree and decorations up on Sunday. I wasn't really in the Christmas mood prior to this, but I'm getting there.
Yesterday was my first day of moving about all day without any back pain - yahoo. I did have a whopper of a migraine last night though. This is undoubtedly due to my dodgy back given that I haven't had one for months and months, thanks to my delightful chiro.
Spent another day at work looking busy and doing absolutely zip, the days seem to take forever at the moment. I have added an extra week to my Christmas break and will start my Christmas holidays this Friday. Can't undergo another week of doing nothing. I have no idea what January will bring though.
One bonus of having very little to do at work and having a need to look busy, I've got over 4000 words done on my book. Awesome start. Words on a computer screen look inocuous enough, so no questions are asked, not that my boss gives a hoot at the moment, but other Managers would. Next year when I complain about the ludricous hours I am working and the workload, you can remind me about being bored and having nothing to do.
Hubby has serviced my car today, so now it's all ready for my trip to Renmark - which is less than 2 weeks away. He made a point of saving the smallish bucket of oil that was left after the oil change. He wanted to point out that I should be checking the oil more regularly. It has always been my standard argument that I married a mechanic for a reason and that this is his job. He responded that I drive it, I should check the oil. My response to this was that he wears his work shirts but I wash and iron them, did he want the job instead. His mate doubled over laughing at that one and said that I had a valid point.
Hubby avoids the iron like the plague. He's been known to wear a jumper rather than iron a shirt himself. I have no idea what he is going to do when I am away for 8 days, his employer only supplies 5 work shirts at any one time. He suggests he'll just put it in the dryer to 'iron' it, gotta love him. Don't get me wrong, he could rival any world class chef with his cooking ability and when it comes to repairs, building or 'boy' jobs then he is first class. He'll even wash and hang a load of clothes but he refuses to touch the iron.
Well my belly is starting to voice protests about lack of sustenance so I had better go and fill it.
Ciao for now, Fi