The Princess and the Peeve

Monday 11th December

Am paying for excitement and activities of last week with down turn in health. Make huge "to do" list and then ignore it completely as unable to stir myself from sofa. Think with longing to far off days of last week when lounging was a problem as opposite now quite true.

Get into staring competition with unfeasibly large squirrel in front garden who sits on a branch just level with the sitting room window. To add insult to injury the squirrel wins and I am subjected to the humiliation of watching him and his pal doing a little rodent victory dance on the front lawn. Dance comes to abrupt end when I release the cats, being all out of winged monkeys.

Cats deeply unimpressed about being woken to police squirrel festivities and sulk for rest of day.

Tuesday 12th

Am greatly amused when HTB tells me that a member of his team who doesn't usually read my blog is very peeved that I have called her the team princess. On the basis that the blog is anonymous am unclear how she knows I am writing about her unless she recognizes herself. Even better can only think that some else must also have thought they recognized her to have drawn the blog to her attention in the first place.



Try to recall who actually said the only defense against libel is the truth, but feel sure that number of friends including Square Jawed Ed will let me know, no doubt correcting my quote along the way, if number of emails I got after blogging about Friday 13th is anything to go by.

Old friend calls me to tell me that his affair is over, his mistress has left him for other married man she is dating and he is heart broken having realized she is the one he really wants to be with. However he can't really talk as he is at work and can he call me later. I am still drawing breath to reply when he goes and I spend afternoon worrying about him.

He on the other hand spends entire afternoon texting back and forth with the mistress in a very not-over-at-all manner and doesn't see link between this activity and his greatly cheered spirits when I call him in the evening. Also sees nothing odd in texting mistress while emailing wife and talking to me all at the same time, so set him straight.

Has now decided not necessary to do anything rash and I retort rather acidly that this is possibly because being dumped hasn't actually altered his relationship with his mistress one jot.

Wednesday 13th December

Receive cheque in post from fond parents and decide to celebrate with champagne at ballet in the evening. Swan Lake marvelous but very modern interpretation with all male cygnets and gay love interest, but as HTB says you can't fault the music. I am somewhat disappointed that at no point is the performance interrupted by the appearance of two men dressed in roman costumes in manner of Morcambe and Wise, but put this down to being over influenced by films as a child.

Spot David Dimbleby in bar and can't help but notice we have vastly superior seats.

Thursday 14th December

Spend day in bed and notice that squirrels, now named Bert and Ernie on the basis that I have no idea how to sex a squirrel on sight at 20 paces, have taken to sitting on a higher branch when I am upstairs. Wonder how many calls local police get reporting squirrel stalkers but decide not to put it to the test as I don't want to be just another crime statistic.

HTB takes team for Christmas do where he is every excited to stand next to Sarah Beaney off Channel 4 (who happens to be in restaurant and is in no way part of team) and says she is tiny (although hopefully not to her.)

He goes on to attend section drinks and as a consequence is slightly the worse for wear when he sets off home at 8pm. He calls me from Waterloo to say he is on the next train to Woking and I say whatever you do don't fall asleep on the train ha ha! An hour later he calls from Basingstoke<>to tell me he has just woken up there and is waiting for a train back. Suggest that what ever he does he should not buy me a diamond necklace, but sadly there are no jewelers on the platform (his excuse) and I turn down his offer of a pearl necklace as I assume he is being obscene. Finally makes it home after about 2 hours and I feed him, stuff him full of Bender Mender and put him to bed.

Friday 15th December

Feel slightly better and able to potter around. Finally get some of the things on my To Do list crossed off.

Turns into nostalgia week and I hear from an ex-husband, my ex-fiance from America who wants to tell me he's married and an ex don't know what you'd call him on the basis that he never stopped living with his girlfriend long enough for me to date him and has spent that last 15 years regretting it, who wants to tell me he is going to Australia and will always love me.

Bah humbug says I.

Old friend calls to say that his affair is finally over as his mistress came round, they spent the night together and he has told her it can never be. I ask if on basis that he has reconciled with her so he can dump her in return he feels better about whole thing and he looks startled by this interpretation (MEN!) but agrees he is happier.

Saturday 16th

HTB spends day with his children and I catch up with my friend Inge who tells me she is having a week of nostalgia for people she used to know in other countries and I say it's funny you should mention that … also discuss mutual friend's affair and topic of women's liberation I put forward theory that women have been duped by idea of liberation and there is now an entire generation of women who are burned out from trying to "have it all" just like men, while ignoring that men didn't have it all, they had careers and they had women, who did the rest for them. We end the conversation with a few tips for Inge on how to track people down and I suggest 192.com and freindsreunited.co.uk as being a good place to start a career in international stalking.

December 18th

My appointment with the specialist finally arrives and after 7 years of pain and fatigue I have a name for what is wrong with me – medically speaking at least. The specialist confirms my Doctor's theory that I have Fibromyalgia Syndrome. Imagine that in specialist's line of work he is used to patients reacting to diagnoses with delight and he takes my offer of my first born in his stride. He also tells me he is going to be able to suggest some drugs for the insomnia and acupuncture for the pain and says that while there isn't a cure most people come to an accommodation through lifestyle changes but warns me about mood swings and suggests possible psychiatric consult in future. I walk out in a daze trying to decide how much difference a name makes and HTB smugly points out entire diagnosis took 20 minutes.

Am further cheered when rather nice young man taking my blood for further tests double checks my year of birth as being a typo and then keeps repeating in dazed manner "you really, really don't look it" am just on point of considering elopement when test tube fills and I return to sanity and HTB.

Decide on basis of post diagnosis euphoria to brave Christmas crowds at Tescos and I come to clearer understanding of specialist's warning about mood swings when the blues descend suddenly and I am seized by the urge to kick over a pile of frozen turkeys while screaming f*ck Christmas at the top of my voice. I resist, but the fantasy cheers me sufficiently to enable me to stagger through rest of shopping and pick out bottle of something Grousish for HTB.

Have religious conversion and realize Christmas truly time for miracles when woman at till asks me if I am old enough to buy alcohol. She on other hand deeply disturbed by my public declaration of love for her and possibly also by the photo I have on my driver's licence which have to admit could possibly scar her for life.

Head home for celebratory drink and long conversations with friends and family.