The virw from here

It is sometimes impossible to write something without coming across as impossibly smug or essentially wrapped up with all that is navel gazing.
So because I did I will share the inanities of my weekend a little late, as I have NOT BLOODY STOPPED at work, It is like being sucked dry by a series of vampiric requests. Data analysis for this, self evaluate that and the bloody other. On top of that I have had to start displays from scratch, this being a new room sans any kind of display facility so everything has to be stuck up with Sellotape. It is 2009 and I am having to use sticky tape. NOT A HAPPY BUNNY. Add to this heady mix a member of staff with family problems and a complete inability to control her classes and my cup runeth over with joy.
Yes that was a very heavy sigh.

I can always tell when I am rife with dissatisfaction when I start buying magazines. Which I am..
There was one moment of salvation and that was going to see the Pitman Painters at the National Theatre, A play so brilliantly written I truly wish you could all go and see it. So uplifting, in a melancholic kind of way, but best of all, so incredibly funny. I laughed and laughed. Food for the soul. If you can GO SEE, it if you can’t buy the play.

One of the few pleasures I have doing this job is being able to order my Amazon ‘wish list’ each year under the auspices of building up resources. The down side is that they arrive at the same time as all the paperwork needs completing, but I have managed to have a peep at few. Watch this space as they say.

Finally on a sartorial note, yes, I bought the book, it was half price on Amazon, what is a girl to do?
It is good, but I have my favourite images already in a scrap book. There was however little duplication and I really enjoyed the nuggets of text it has. I showed it to Kitty but strangely she did not ‘get it’
I have found my scrap book invaluable. It has stopped me repeating the same old mistakes and focused my attention on buying pieces that recreate my favourite silhouettes’ No longer do I waste money chasing the surfer dream or trying to float around in palazzo trousers Katherine Hepburn style. Now I have my key pieces and more focus.
I do have slightly more clothes that can fit into to my bedroom wardrobe, mainly because He Who Must Be Obeyed has the bulk of the space, which implies a level of sartorial style on his part, but I can assure it is not the case. You couldn’t give his crap away. Acres of worn jersey tops and joggers. Really, it is not pleasant.
For this years summer, to focus my brain I put away all that was black for two whole months. Not easy, but it does help to pare down choice as well as create new mixes of some oldies. The weather finally blew cold this weekend so I put all that was light and pale away and back out came the black. Oh the joy, it was so good to see it all. I must say I do prefer going to work wearing something dark. The lighter, brighter elements of my wardrobe instill a bit of a manyana feel to my work ethic, which is not good for the start of term.

I cannot say I am a big fan of this time of year, darker nights are not something I look forward to, and whilst I do have a trip to Berlin to look forward there is little in the way of theatre coming up. Our next play is not until January.

Mother is packed and ready to go and so has requested a final shopping fling. I have suggested we try the new shopping mall Westfield so she can get her COS fix before disappearing into the northern ether. This plus Frieze Art Fair plus tickets for MUSE will keep the SAD at bay until next year at least.