Recovering from a holiday

I don't know how else to explain my crappy mood -- I'm just recovering from my holiday.

We left on the 17th of September and went to Disney the first week. We were Jack and Sally for Mickey’s Not So Scary Halloween Party and we had to turn back early from the gorilla exhibit at Animal Kingdom due to lightning in the area. We had dinner at the Japanese Steakhouse in EPCOT which was super fun and I can’t recommend it enough. After dinner, funny enough, we came across a concert and saw Living Color play live. (Yes, we got to hear “Cult of Personality.”) Steve shook the guitar player’s hand, we said hello to the singer, and all and all we had the best anniversary so far.

The first weekend was our Bahamas trip. We took my parents who had hemmed and hawed about this for ages, but went and enjoyed themselves as we knew they would. They got to try out their shiny new passports, and Dad took photos of Nassau as we came into port. We all hung out in a cabana on Coco Cay and the weather didn’t let us down the entire time. (Plus, the ship only swayed a bit in the night, which I was supremely thankful for.)

But after all of the fun in the sun, and the visiting my friends and family, and the staying up late to eat pizza and watch good TV had to end, and I was just sad. I went to work on Wednesday after we flew in on Tuesday and since then I’d been just plain blah.

Yesterday I got my flu jab and today was my day off and only the second day I’ve spent alone in the new house. I finished up Season Six of OITNB and then just napped. I spent all day feeling super sorry for myself because I’m back in jolly old England where it’s 40 degrees Fahrenheit and just ugh! Why me?

But finally I knew I had to pull myself out of it because I started my MSc computer course again this week and I have a blank bullet journal and a new Happy Planner that needs my attention. Also, I’m trying to read Girl, Wash Your Face since it’s been talked about and recommended online a lot lately.

Other than that, it’s just back to being me in Pick Manor. Steve is good, Daisy is scheduled for her surgery on the 1st of December (which irritates me because I had tickets to see A Christmas Carol at Newcastle Uni’s Northern Stage that night) and Jake may be getting a new sister. There’s an elderly cat who’s in need of a retirement home, so she may be coming to live with us now. The more the merrier, I guess, yeah? Wish us luck!

A rainy Sunday for packing and doggie sitting

So, it's Sunday and a lot has been going on lately.

First off, we having an official moving date scheduled so hopefully everything will be sorted by the time and we can get out of the flat and into our new house – the future Pick Manor!

For those of you from the United Kingdom, you’ll know what an absolute pain it is to move. You’re never sure if anyone will really, really buy your property, so even if they say they’re buying the place, they could potentially pull of of the sale at any time. We’ve looked at a handful of houses where the owners have said, “Well, it was sold and we spent two months packing and finding a new place, then the buyer changed their mind or didn’t get the funding.” That’s why I didn’t let myself get too excited about any of this until they had an actual date set. I’m still going to wonder if things will fall through because we have an appointment next week to sign contracts. (Pray for us, ya’ll.)

Aside from the two weeks to get our act together, our goldendoodle girl, Daisy, has become an official teenager. She’s now 11 months old and gone into season. Now we spend most of our days keeping her in the computer room (where I sit now, typing this up for you) while we keep her company. She’s peed on the bedroom carpet and the mattress, which I’m still trying to get clean. (Try baking soda, vinegar, hydrogen peroxide, and dishwashing liquid if anyone is reading this.) If we don’t sit with her, she barks and barks and barks. Apparently, according to the internets, she’s feeling vulnerable and needs us to be around to reassure her. Also, she’ll pee more often (no kidding) and she’s marking her places that are hers which is our bedroom, mainly.

I guess we’re her humans and she’s protecting us? Who knows what’s going on in her doggy brain, but I’ve told her that she’s not getting a boyfriend, so she can forget going to the park or doggie daycare for a while. I just hope this is over by moving day time. (Again, send the prayers and good vibes!)

Today we’ve been packing and my job is to tackle the closet where all of my precious clothes are kept. (This is all while I’m trying to scrub out pee smells here and there in the bedroom.) It’s been raining a lot and with the heat, it’s still humid, so our plan is to hit the gym and try to keep up the training. How I’ll ever get marathon ready, I don’t know. Heck, I’ll walk if I need to. Screw it.

Also, I’m now loving Will Smith’s Vlog (I’m totally motivated to create a vlog now. Don’t care how cliché it is!) and OITNB Season Six. My current books are Stephen King’s The Green Mile, Holly Bourne’s Are We all Lemming and Snowflakes, and R.L. Stine’s You May Now Kill the Bride (Return to Fear Street #1) because holy crap did I love love love these books in high school!

Speaking of which, on kind of a melancholy note, it really makes me sad to enter into autumnal new school season and not be able to feel the excitement of wearing a new tartan skirt and tights, and have the feel of Fall being new and full of opportunities. I was looking at clothes in the MetroCentre yesterday and feeling down about how there’s never going to be a reason for me to want or need to dress up like I used to. I know at any age you can wear what you want and feel as good as you allow yourself, but, honestly, does anyone care if you look cute after age 40?

Anyway, I’m sure that once I get this weight off and I’m feeling healthier, I’ll be way more inclined to attempt at looking nice. And with that said, I’m off to the gym in the pouring rain.

Have a great week, everyone!