How is it October already? Seriously, I’m scared to blink in case I open my eyes and it’s 2052, I’ve lost all my teeth and the kids have papped me into a retirement home.
Instead I’ll indulge in my usual autumnal day dreams. One where everything is a delightful shade of burnt orange; we’re all indulging in long bracing walks littered with crunchy, golden leaves; wearing our matching woolly scarves and bobble hats.
Black is back
In reality, I’m prepared to admit my only preparation for the changing season is packing all my black summer clothes away and replacing it with my all black autumn attire.
Because, let’s be honest, reality is, autumn is cold. Cold and cutting. Cold, mean, malicious winds, thanks to the North Sea, OR dreich, miserable and wet.
Rain not quite heavy enough to taste your hair conditioner but the kind willing to cover you in a damp mist.
Unsurprisingly, I’ve spent the day melting because when I left the house at 7.30am, I maturely layered up. My rain jacket was quickly surplus to requirement when summer decided to fleetingly show face and my excess layering is never pretty when you’re my size.
Ah, a cheese board…
Continuing on in my fantasy realm, we’re now home and indulging in homemade soups and a cheese board.
If you were to tell me I was to die a slow, painful death if I ate something, this would be it for me. Goodbye cruel world. Death by fromage.
I wouldn’t even need to be that hungry. There wouldn’t be an agonizing internal battle not to eat the cheese. Just load me up and let me die happy.
We’d all sit together round the table, rosy cheeked from our jaunt, the dogs slumbering peacefully under the table.
At this stage I won’t even mind the howling winds and rain battering against the window… Safe, together and inside.
The rest of the day’s plans consisting of nothing more than curling up on the sofa and reading our books. Or watching a movie.
An easy movie. No concentration is required. Let’s not be interrupting my afternoon, post brie doze please.
I want the movie equivalent of the Cadbury Caramel Bunny’s voice. A visual blanket. Soothing and warm.
Fame was never a goal
And I don’t want any actors the size of my pinkie who have previously declared during promotional press junkets how they struggled to gain weight for the role.
Blabbering on about eating junk food for a whole month except they’re actually describing my daily diet consumed for the past two decades? No thanks.
Fame was never a goal of mine. Notoriety never pursued. I had no hidden desires to walk red carpets or be recognised in the feminine hygiene aisle of Tesco.
I only ever wanted to appear effortless. Easy breezy. Like Meg Ryan who, to me, looked casually fabulous.
These days, stepping out appears to require slebs to have stylists, makeup artists, hairdressers, shamans and a partridge in a pear tree.
I absolutely wanted adventures but nice easy ones. Ones that didn’t make me stray too far out of my comfort zone or force me to wear uncomfortable shoes.
Don’t get me wrong, I still want to be invited on adventures, I just don’t want to go.
Getting on the glad rags
We have an industry event this week requiring more than just a bit of a scrub up on my part.
He’ll just chuck on his kilt and instantly be the most handsomest. I’ll have to navigate something higher than my trusty Converse and accept while motherhood might mean updating the kids’ wardrobe each year, I’m still wearing the same clothes from circa 2002.
My most frequented answer will be ‘great!’ or ‘fine, thank you!’ every time someone asks how I am.
I’ll force myself to glide through with a degree of competence, even trying to make it all look effortless through moments of anxiety and sheer panic.
Please be gentle…
We’ll smile and mingle desperately recalling names and faces but please be gentle, I’ve three kids who’s names I muddle so, when I get it wrong, please don’t be offended.
I can remember every Pearl Jam lyric from the 90s and every mistake my husband has ever made, but I may have no clue what your name is or if I switched off the hair straighteners before I came out.
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