Cote d'Azur

Charmed though I was by the BFG's ideas for things to do while A is away (and I am going to do option 2 next weekend), I decided to do something he didn't put on the list.

So, yesterday (Thursday), I hopped on one of these and then on one of these and now I am here. 

It's rather lovely here.  The weather is sunny and warm-ish, it is a very walkable place and this morning I partook of a cafe au lait looking at the Mediterreanean on my left and the Promenade des Anglais on my right.  Not a half bad place to be at 10.00 on a Friday morning.

 

tracking

Every time A flies somewhere I track his flight on the internet.  It struck me today, as I had his flight from Hong Kong to New Zealand minimised on my desktop at work, that this is surely a strange thing to do.  What do I think I am going to see?
11:00  taxiing
11:20  taken off
12:00  200 miles out
12:15  oops, fallen out of the sky into the sea - our bad.

Anyway, I have been doing quite well.  I decided that wallowing, while it has its place, is not really the way forward.  Instead I've been doing all manner of things I can't do when A is home.  Like watch old episodes of "Sex and the City" back to back while eating ice cream straight from the tub.  Or not bothering to cook over the weekend and instead eating toasted banana sandwiches for dinner.  Or playing Motown loud enough to be heard over the Hoover.

Still - twelve more days until he comes home

tales from a London bus

My journey to work yesterday morning was enlivened by two young (I'm guessing mid 20s) men, all suited and booted, heading for the city.  I was sitting behind them as they had a loud and bragging conversation:

Whippersnapper 1:  She's gorgeous, my girl.  You've never seen anyone so beautiful

Whippersnapper 2:  I've met her, mate.  She may be pretty but the lights aren't all on, are they?  Grant you my Milly isn't that much of a looker but she's as smart as they come.

Whippersnapper 1:  Bullsh1t! Kit is just as smart as Milly.

Whippersnapper 2:  Yeah?  If Kit's so smart, how come you were telling me she fell of the bed the other night?

Whippersnapper 1: (deep indulgence in his voice) that wasn't her fault, she'd been chasing her tail and got dizzy.

The memory of that exchange kept me entertained all day.

My journey home wasn't as fun.  The little boy sitting behind me thought that it would be the height of entertainment to grab a fistful of my hair and give it a suprisingly strong and vicious tug.  His mother chided him: "You mustn't touch other people's hair, darling.  It could be all dirty".

?!?!??!??!

blick

A left this evening for 5 days here, followed by two weeks visiting his parents here.

He's only been gone a few hours and I'm already unsettled, edgy and faintly miserable :-(

white noise

Sometime in the middle of last week I was talking to a patient when she suddenly grimaced.  I looked at her in concern, but she just asked "how long did it take you to get used to that?".  It was a couple of moments before I realised that she was talking about the wailing of the ambulance pulling up at the doors of A&E.  Sirens are finally back to being the background noise to my daily life.

Thank you for all your comments on my previous post.  You are all very lovely.  I think I am okay, or at least almost all the way there.  I have even unpacked the emergency getaway bag and can leave the house without being shoved.  We did buy a fire-proof box though, for vital papers and our passports and the like - but that just makes good sense :-)

losing it

Exactly a week ago I was standing outside and watching the flames which had already destroyed part of the building in which I live, lick ever closer to my home.  It turned out well, and I was - am - one of the lucky ones who still have a home to come to.  I am well aware of how lucky I am, how narrow the escape was, how I should be counting my blessings right now.

But I'm still scared of leaving the house because I'm convinced I will come back to ashes and rubble.  A had to physically prise my darling little cat out of my arms on Wednesday and lead me out of the flat so that I would go to work, where I spent all day fretting.  On Thursday I begged and bribed my mother to go round and check on things, and she humoured me enough to do so (she lives close to an hour's drive away), on Friday A works from home so I was less of a nut-job, but I haven't left the house this entire weekend.

Last Sunday when we were finally allowed back home, I threw a few things into a bag "just in case".  I haven't unpacked it yet, in fact I've been adding things to it all week and it lives on the spare bed next to the pet carrier.  I unplug everything but the fridge if it isn't in use and I am convinced that I smell smoke at least 5 times a day, although I manage to keep this to myself.

Worst of all, though, my heart now beats faster whenever I hear a siren until I hear it fade into the distance.  I work in a hospital, for crying out loud.  I swear I spent most of last week tachycardic.

I have got to get a grip!

it's official...

Relaxing doesn't make babies: 

http://www.bmj.com/content/342/bmj.d223

Pause while infertile couples the world over chorus "no shit, Sherlock?"