Monthly Archives: April 2008
No it’s not like going out with a cow and coming back with ten magic beans. It’s actually seeing that the “answer to all my paper chaos” cabinet was nearly £100 for the slimline elegant version, or half that for an ugly regular one and coming to my senses on the pavement right there.
So consequently a few documents now nestle comfortably labelled in their coloured folders whilst most of the other paperwork roams wild around the house. I’ll catch that pesky stuff one day! Did I mention the lawn?
No, well, after I bought the manila folders (why are they called that) I decided the missing grass on the handkerchief back garden needed reseeding – which would take about 10 minutes (not magic minutes either). Hours later after digging, breaking, raking, moaning, nearly decapitating the kids who joined the “Save the Worms” party in the meantime, I had a half a dug up, remnants of lawn, patch. There’s seed (plenty or too much, time will tell) but although we watered and flung handfuls of compost on it in vain hope and ignorance I have to report nothing to report in the growing department 24 hours on.
The rear-view mirror in the car is still dangling off, the sticky pads in the shop completely useless. The man in a different shop told me to go to a windscreen shop so they can bond it on as BMWs have extra heavy mirrors – i.e. too heavy for the glue he was selling (or not selling to me). Like I’m going to do that. What fix a problem straight off the bat, no messing. Oh no, not me, not when I could waste a load of money on useless sticky things and drive across country for a couple of hundred miles with the mirror swinging around threatening to whack me in the head. Living dangerously, that’s me!
On the makemeadiva programme, a personal trainer came round for the first consultation. I have been advised to detox if possible and definitely keep a food diary. We had a vile McDonalds for tea, if I don’t write it down then it never happened. Oh and I booked a hair appointment. The voice on the phone asked if I wanted a cut and colour. I really couldn’t say. Oh dear, oh dear. I know the cut I sport right now is too annoying to be tolerated but as for colour…
makemeadiva tip: Don’t have a good-looking personal trainer because when they test your resting heart rate the reading will be sorely elevated 🙂
Is to turn a spotty, yet wrinkled, 38 year old mother of two who is in full possession of a spare tyre, many badger-head grey hairs and a hatred of manicured fingernails (on herself) into something more akin to a SATC kinda gal. Can it be done before I turn 40? Will surgery be necessary? Watch this space.
However, before any of that, it’s the beginning of the two week school holidays and I have a 5 year old and 3 year old to entertain, one 9 month old lurcher and a cat who looks at our domestic chaos with disdain through the kitchen window. Or from the shed roof if the sun is shining.
“Suckers” we hear her say softly!
Today’s mission is to renew the car tax disc that ran out yesterday. A simple piece of administrative detail in your life maybe. But in the world of makemeadiva, no. Not simple, far from indeed. Paperwork to find. Why does the man in our lives (oh yes did I forget to mention him) insist on keeping all the ancient MOT certificates in one place and the current one somewhere completely different. And why, I wonder, after 8+ years together do we still have so many filing places. His filing places x 2, mine x 1, blended filing places about 3. My mother kept an office filing cabinet in the dining room when I was a kid. Style heresey, yes but a sensible timesaving system too. One which I lack. I’ve found the MOT cert and the Vehicle Reg document (for some reason the DVLA don’t know where we live after nearly two years). So now it is back into the fray to find the insurance letter – are we insured? I damn well hope so.
And if I ever get out the house with all the bits of poxy paperwork to the post office, I’ll be looking out for a nice metal filing cabinet out on the pavement from one of those secondhand office furniture gaffs