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I’d like to think that it’s always harmless but sometimes I can’t read someone’s intentions. This afternoon I was in with a team at work whilst we randomly discussed oral pleasures. I would at this juncture like to point out that I did not instigate this conversation, boys will be boys – or middle aged men. I seem to have this uncanny knack of becoming one of the boys. I am reminded of being in the play ground, and in order to be popular, or in this case successful I have a duty to indulge them and join in with the banter.

I do like to be one of the boys, I like that I am sometimes not seen as being different and that there is an even playing field, then sometimes I feel a little like the specked geek in the American high school, who doesn’t quite fit in and who doesn’t get the joke, whilst at the same time the slutty cheerleader who the crass jokes are aimed at.

It would be much easier if I was actually one of the boys… I’d probably get paid more too, but I’d have to work 5 day’s a week.

It started fairly badly when my alarm clock sounded at 5.15am… urg soon it will be pitch black at that time again, then I really am going to have a problem getting out of bed.

Up, showered, cat’s fed, tumble dryer loaded with last nights wash, a new wash on (what’s the betting when I get home tomorrow night that same wash is still in the machine, should have left a post-it about that one) son’s school bag packed and clothes for the day out at the end of his bed.  I am out the door standing on the platform waiting for the 6:24am train ready for my weekly 2.5hr commute to work.

I make the usual mistake at 6.19am of turning on my Blackberry, it starts to buzz as if it has a life of its own, email after email, text and voicemail, should not have turned it on! Damn it I forgot about increasing my son’s hours at school, I have a reminder about my commitment to volunteer at the local church group in the week (because I have so much spare time.) We have the gas man and the builder starting work this morning – quick text to my sleeping husband asking him to make sure he leaves our keys with the neighbour, while I text the builder so he can locate said keys to begin work. One person wont be at work as off sick, another whose in  a real state because their laptop was stolen on Friday night and can I meet with him first thing this morning, my 930am meeting moved to 845am, another meeting request for 1700hrs and could I put a proposal together for a new piece of work that’s required… something else to add to my ever increasing to do list… a memo to transfer the money for the gas man and the builder to the joint account,  I have been writing cheque after cheque and need them not to bounce the last thing I need is my house like a building site for a fourth week…..

All this before 6.24am I board my train, blackberry in one hand and book for book club in the other. I have to finish this book before I get back from work tomorrow, it’s our book club meeting on Thursday night and I am no where near the end. Some kind man offers me his seat and I take it, not really, I stand squashed like a sardine next to the door for the full 25minute journey to St Pancras unable to read my book. A quick dash to Paddington and I finally get to sit down at 7.18am on theBerkshirebound train. I settle down and open my book only to remember that I have a food shop to do, so I open the laptop and order the shopping, do the builder’s money transfers, and catch up on all my missed emails from last week. I then write the congratulations cards for the friends who got engaged last week and the ones that had their baby girl yesterday, and start the design for the Halloween party we are having for my Son. I then decide I should phone my husband to remind him that we need to go to my Grandmothers house to change the washer on her tap whilst she is on holiday and also to help me to put the runner beans back up as they came down with the winds last weekend, that we have a parents evening coming up and, he must send a thank you card to his mother for the gifts she sent as I am not going to be doing it again…..

I arrive at work and the day speeds by in meetings, project scheduling and updates. I add to my to-do list, and buy guilt gifts for my son on-line in my lunch break. It’s unlikely that I will get to speak with him before he goes to bed tonight. I get to my hotel at 8pm (my son’s in bed) order my supper and run a bath, whilst I log back onto work.  I love that I get to spend a day away each week, I love my job, I love the madness that is my day and the ever increasing to do list, I can’t help but want to feel needed at home and at work, if I wasn’t running around like a headless chicken with places to be and things to do I would be bored stiff but still that doesn’t mean that once in a while it would be good if I could have some help or just stop!  

The next day at work pans out much like the previous and I leave the office at 7pm to start my journey home. I’m lucky this evening and meet friends at a bar in St Pancras, we have supper and a good old gossip, it’s been ages since we’ve met up, we talk about our absent friends, new babies, new love interests, our jobs, and our husbands. I needed this….

I get home at around 1130am hoping to be able to go to sleep, only to find my darling husband asleep and a house that looks like a small atomic bomb has gone off and then a war took place, dust, building material, toys, plates with food still on next to the sink and in the dining room, dirty laundry dumped by the washing machine, towels discarded on the bathroom floor, shoes and coats thrown on the armchair and general disarray…. I silently scream and then set about clearing the house… Then nearing 1am just as I settle in to bed, “Mummy I’ve had a bad dream”