Oh good grief, I’m disintegrating and I’ve only been back from holiday a few days. I got psychically mugged at the pub the other night and then last night I went on a total bender on the astral. Lucid dreaming doesn’t half take it out of you. I can’t complain as it was fecking awesome in every witch way but really I’m shattered and aching all over and I’m half-expecting the psychic police to come banging at the door any moment and issue me with a warning. Can you get an astral ASBO? 
The house is mayhem. The bags are still in the hall, half-emptied; dirty clothes in clumps making their way slowly towards the washing machine. Random men keep appearing at the door and asking random things or giving me random parcels and really I haven’t a clue what they want as the dogs are barking so loudly and my head is in another time entirely. So I’m smiling and signing and probably selling my soul or buying a time-share in Milton Keynes or something. My PC is behaving like a memory-challenged OAP and I’ve got my iPod on shuffle and, as I can’t ever be arsed to organise my music into types, it’s segueing from The Black Eyed Peas to Syd Barrett to The Killers to Hildegard of Bingen. Every so often Art Giser pops up and warns me that I need to sort out my prosperity mentality (yup, Art, I know, I know - I'm working on it, alright? Cut me some slack). 
Anyhow. Onwards. The SP needs a walk – I can see him out of the window tugging desperately at a long bramble. Bless his heart, he’s obviously trying to weed the garden – but it’s past redemption. James has gone to Taunton and Adrian is in St Albans. I’m supposed to be polishing off my columns but they’re all blurring into one. Maybe I’ll try out Barbara Ford-Hammond’s new meditation download – Power Nap. Or could I just be totally decadent and go back to the astral for a gentle afternoon frolic?
Oh, and I nearly forgot… The Sea Bands behaved impeccably and, despite long transfers along windy roads, neither James nor I felt remotely sick (despite inhaling industrial quantities of sweets courtesy of CandyKing). I will be posting off bands to Sage, Jane and Solange... PS- this is hilarious - if you Google "Astral Asbo" you find a ton of pictures of Asbo Jack. Fact.
8 comments:
Coming home from the hols is the worst part of the hols. There's bound to be consequences.
By the way, offhand, do you know any decent campsites in or near Exmoor and you? Thinking of pitching a tent and exploring a bit as well as our meet-up(not wanting to impose too much, you see)
You'll soon get yourself back to normal....whatever that means.
Viv
xx
I want a dream like that. :-)
Welcome home! We're on holiday at the moment having a great time with lots of friends. Good luck with the laundry - it's a process.
Welcome back! Sounds like you need another break to just get over this last one!
It sounds like you need a little vacation at home before you dive back into the rat race again. Look into those power naps, they may be very helpful. I take one every day. They save my life. I hope you had a grand time. Brussels sprouts with curry sauce don't actually sound all that bad.
Oh Jane, welcome back to you, your family and your marvelous wit.
Although I am a bit envious of your holiday (last holiday trip for me was ... oh, perhaps five or six years ago, but that's okay because I live in a holiday destination) I do want to hear more about Turkey.
xo
I'm on the galaxy and fresh coconut diet today, but I have to say I had high hopes of a TD diet. Shame.
*pat-pat-pat* Good bloggie... :o)
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