it’s been a hard days night…
And now I remember why I only do special offers once a year – I’m getting too old for this. Phew!
After what we could conservatively call a lively and action-packed week I am officially relaxing today and the only meaningful activity in which I will be engaging is to be staggering over to the gym for some light cardio (as in looking at the treadmill) and a leisurely swim and sauna prior to organising one of my few New Year’s resolutions; I will be treating myself to a lovely spa treatment once a month, or at least until I tire of lying around being exfoliated, massaged, slathered in expensive body butter and wrapped kindly in warm blankets by delightful young ladies in smart yet pleasingly pyjama-y outfits which, trust me, is not likely to be anytime soon. Or ever.
This week I have also virtuously recycled the Christmas tree, finished off the last of the leftovers and braved the ridiculously long queues at the Post Office to send my passport renewal form; not bad value at seventy-seven fifty plus five pounds for postage, on top of another five pounds for new pictures from the photo-machine. This last not-inconsiderable price hike (since the three 50ps I remember feeding into the slot for the last set) instantly began turning me into my dad, although I was pleasantly surprised with the results (bar the runny nose from the freezing wind outside – since it is Passport and not Match.com, hardly crucial) and compared to the one gracing the passport I have had since March 2001 almost flattering, nose aside. I have checked my insurance, asked at the bank about US dollars and bought a Lonely Planet from Waterstones; the news earlier this week that some of these stores are to close filled me with horror and keen to show my support, I also purchased a 2011 diary and calendar, a nice new bookmark and whiled away a happy ten minutes tentatively investigating a Kindle.
As some will also know, my birthday is a scant two weeks away – I will be proudly thirty-eight and am already planning a day out to celebrate. The difficulty of finding things to do in mid-late January has been a bugbear for as long as I can remember and the current plan is a relaxing visit to York for Art Gallery-Afternoon Tea-Shops-Pictures-Dinner. I often feel sorry for those poor ladies who never seem to have any birthdays, and can only assume they must make other arrangements for special occasions with cake; not that there is anything wrong with this, I certainly have special-occasion pork pie at every opportunity that presents itself, and the more often the better. So far, I am waiting for weather updates before finalising details – I am sure we have all heard that the snow and ice are planning a comeback, but thus far these predictions seem to have been needlessly pessimistic and in the event that they are not, my fabulous snowboots will save the day. They should also save me money, since they take so long to take off and put back on I am unlikely to be interested in trying on anything else.
Needless to say, normal service is being resumed as of tomorrow and I am already virtually booked up from then until Thursday – apologies to those who didn’t manage to make their arrangements in time for discount week, but appointments were at a premium and as ever early booking is well advised – you’ll know for next year! I am currently taking appointments for my first London visit of the year (February 2nd – 6th) and would advise interested parties to make their presence known sooner rather than later. Meanwhile, I intend to enjoy the remainder of my first day off in over a week, investigate the recuperative powers of butterscotch Angel Delight (yet to be officially recognised, but I am fully prepared to vouch for them) and do precisely nothing for the duration. Happy New Year to me!
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