Tiny tragedies

So we await our broadband and our geyser to be fixed and our furniture order delivery and and and... moving into a new place is a bit of a waiting game. It is rather nice to come home and have our unemployed digsmate playing James Blunt in the kitchen while he cooks a quiche from scratch (from scratch people!!!). I'm also enjoying the little bit of community feel we have... the laughter at silly things, the offers to make tea. I'm sure we'll all be so sick of each other come Christmas, but for now, we hang out and enjoy it. The flat-warming has been postponed another week.

I've picked up a bit of cross stitch again, just doing a Winnie-the-Pooh bookmark, a small little satisfying thing. It reminds me of my mom and her lovely night-before birthday cards, and the cross-stitch sampler I made for Beryl for her birthday. I never saw that get put up, even after spending months on it and framing it, becuase when she received it she was bed-ridden and cancer-riddled, and she died less than a month later.

Wow, I'm really on a bit of a sad kick lately. Must break out of self-pitying slump.

So the major news is that future in the UK has come into question with regard to my current job. I don't really want to go into it right now, it's a bit upsetting and worrying and scary, and I have gone a bit teary when talking about it to others. It's really made me think about home and how things would be were I to return to SA for good. Other factors aside (Ian being in the UK, no jobs really) it would be amazing to be a car trip away from my mom again.

So one of the car companies whose magazine is produced through my company have invited me for an induction day at their HQ, where I get to drive some of their new models and eat finger foodie thingys and learn about their company. Should be good - I get to drive again!

Otherwise, blah. Am planning on my first post-illness piss-up this weekend. Should you be less than a plane ticket away, do join.