Operation Cheer Up: in conclusion

I woke up feeling much less melancholy on Sunday. I’m still a bit disappointed, but hey, it doesn’t stop me writing does it?

Operation Cheer Up concluded with some self diagnosis:

• That I require a Sunday roast … so we went off to our local, The Londoner.
• That I need to watch Tootsie again. In the event, it was the thought of watching it that helped with the therapy.
• That this should be accompanied by chocolate. Okay, this one was more than just thought about. This one was literally executed!
• Following lunch I went with Husband for a foot massage at a place along our road. I had an hour’s foot massage, quite the best, most blissful one I’ve ever had, for the grand total of 100 Thai Baht/£1.60/$2.90 (plus tip.)

So I think that's it now: wallowing over. Thank you for your kind words and virtual hugs. They were very much appreciated.

Give me a slap

I’m feeling pitifully sorry for myself today. I need a good slap because it’s not life and death but nonetheless I’m feeling wretched.

It started on Friday evening. Daughter was at a sleepover with four friends; Son was watching TV and Husband had braved the tropical rain storm to get home for his last phone meeting of the week.

Through the wall I could hear Husband on the conference call – him talking loudly as though to someone slightly stupid and the tinny voices of his colleagues from the speaker phone. I was finishing off Two Caravans when the email bleeped red on my Blackberry.

Every time the thought had entered my head that the writing course might be jeopardised by the political unrest here I gave it a firm whack away. It would be fine, I said, it’s in Koh Chang not in Bangkok.

Yesterday the news came: The Literary Consultancy has taken the decision to cancel the course. I’d tried so hard not to think this might happen but at the same time I understand. If I were in the UK thinking of coming to a country under a State of Emergency... well, I don't think I would.

Lovely Husband is telling me to go anyway… it's all in the diary, got everything in place at home - have a break, he says, but I don’t need a break – I need a writing course.

See, I just need a good slap for being a spoilt and selfish.