Unreasonable Optimism

I am inexplicably cheerful about the coming few months at work, despite nothing having changed in the slightest and the likelihood of me ever getting promoted (or at least to a job that doesn't make me want to eat my own limbs and howl like a wolf) is still zilch. Yet, I still have this unnerving sense that *good things* are going to happen - perhaps the work ethic I mysteriously developed in the closing months of last year was not just zombified, mindless obedience but an actual moment of maturity/growth.

(Shakes head in horror at the thought I might always feel like doing random extra work *at the weekend*)

It could be that this good mood is just a leftover of Christmas cheer or some side effect of the recent illness. Either way, it should be gone soon enough: it's bonus and pay meetings at the beginning of next month. Meh.

Interrupted Service

November has been a bit of an heavy month for various reasons, none of them particularly earth-shattering, but together they've formed a giant heap of crap that I've given up struggling to get out. As a result, I have neglected my blog. Apologies.

Part of this is my fault. I shouldn't have started writing so much about politics - especially how *optimistic* I was about things that were happening - because I've obviously jinxed the Labour party. The more depressing things got, the more I couldn't bear to look at my previous witterings. So, I have gone back to resolutely ignoring newspapers/articles/blogs touching on the current string of disasters. I'm trying to cheer myself up by drinking my tea from my new funky mug but so far, it doesn't seem to be working.

It's not like anything positive has been happening on the feminist front either. The church has gone bonkers and it feels like it's only a matter of time before someone takes my uterus away because I am incapable of looking after it. I know I shouldn't really feel so defeatist but I've no energy to think positive thoughts, perhaps because the doom-pill (this month's contraceptive of choice) may well be an attempt by the patriarchy to break me through continuous bleeding, bloating and general foulness.

To cheer myself up, I attempted to teach myself to crochet but I am incompetent and haven't got beyond the first chain. Having conquered the ribbing in knitting, I felt full of confidence (now shattered) and I can't do any knitting because I can't afford any more wool.

Has anything even vaguely cheering happened in the last month? Farnham's annual ceramics fair was good, although actually not as good as the Oxford one in October. I've bought a giant, glittering german advent calendar that is practically the size of me. It turns out I am of the branch of my family completely lacking class who believe that anything can improved by the addition of glitter and/or sparkling things. Although even I draw the line at the pink-and-blue-sparkly reindeer from Paperchase (I was going to link to a picture of one, but can I find one anywhere? No. You'll just have to take my word for it).

So, I am clawing my way desperately towards Christmas, a period I usually love for the abundance of sparkling lights and good cheer. I think I'll take a trip to Liberty in London next week and look at the Christmas decorations to jolly myself up. Until then, I'm going to stick on some music, drink some wine and wallow in gloom. December tomorrow, December tomorrow...