My uber-efforts at work are paying off - down to my last large pile of files to work on - but it has more to do with the fact that the strain has finally taken it's toll on my secretary, who is currently nursing a nasty rash, enlarged glands, and a puffy face - I've told her to stay at home as long as it takes - I already have a propensity to all those traits and don't need any added assistance from my assistant.
It made me feel much better about skiving off at 6.30 to pick Jack up for the pre-season training pre-training meeting at the rugby club. I was dreading it, if truth be told - new coaches, likely to be much the same as the previous bunch, taken one too many punches in the scrum, unable to wear the trousers at home, and not clever enough to know what to do with a little bit of power -parents, some of them very vociferous and inarticulate, others just subversively grumbling between themselves, a couple just anxious to get as much cheap ale down their necks as possible, and me just sitting smilimg, staying schtum (apart from the odd bitchy comment which I knew few would understand, only the ones who are on my wavelength) and taking it all in.
I wasn't that disappointed - the Chief Coach could at least string a sentence together, but it was quite self-indulgent - I took notice of the bit about being fined 50p for being late - that'll put an end to my all-night chat sessions next weekend - Jack took absolutely no notice whatsoever of the bit about turning up in clean boots, suspect that'll be down to me still - and yes - the parents were already finding things to moan about. Their points might be valid - certainly in the case of the self-appointed fundraiser - don't know what it is about her but she rubs me up the wrong way - not that I'd want her to know,I can imagine she takes no prisoners in a fight - but give it a chance I say - season doesn't start 'til September (and if I keep losing weight at this rate, I'll be in a 12, and the only mum on the touchline in a mini skirt and crop-top, ditch those baggy jumpers, Cherrypie!) and the boys need to get fit, together and focussed on an enjoyable, competitive season of tough rugger. The boys are looking great - some of them a bit spotty, but they are growing so much - can't believe they were only 9 when I first met most of them - seems like last week - and now shaving!!!
I'll miss the first training session on sunday morning - party saturday - don't expect to have stopped partying by that time - but I am looking forward to meeting up with the parents again - they are mostly lovely people, sport-politics aside, and we do have a laugh on a day when I would otherwise be mouldering in bed.
Oh! and the other interesting thing that happened today? That cute solicitor - he dropped me an email on what I think was a very lame pretext of wanting to copy one of my drafts - we plagiarise all the time in our game, so he needn't have asked - and what's more, I'd only cribbed from his contract, but with the odd Cherrypie device, but it did earn me an offer of alcohol - just hope it comes with dinner!
It made me feel much better about skiving off at 6.30 to pick Jack up for the pre-season training pre-training meeting at the rugby club. I was dreading it, if truth be told - new coaches, likely to be much the same as the previous bunch, taken one too many punches in the scrum, unable to wear the trousers at home, and not clever enough to know what to do with a little bit of power -parents, some of them very vociferous and inarticulate, others just subversively grumbling between themselves, a couple just anxious to get as much cheap ale down their necks as possible, and me just sitting smilimg, staying schtum (apart from the odd bitchy comment which I knew few would understand, only the ones who are on my wavelength) and taking it all in.
I wasn't that disappointed - the Chief Coach could at least string a sentence together, but it was quite self-indulgent - I took notice of the bit about being fined 50p for being late - that'll put an end to my all-night chat sessions next weekend - Jack took absolutely no notice whatsoever of the bit about turning up in clean boots, suspect that'll be down to me still - and yes - the parents were already finding things to moan about. Their points might be valid - certainly in the case of the self-appointed fundraiser - don't know what it is about her but she rubs me up the wrong way - not that I'd want her to know,I can imagine she takes no prisoners in a fight - but give it a chance I say - season doesn't start 'til September (and if I keep losing weight at this rate, I'll be in a 12, and the only mum on the touchline in a mini skirt and crop-top, ditch those baggy jumpers, Cherrypie!) and the boys need to get fit, together and focussed on an enjoyable, competitive season of tough rugger. The boys are looking great - some of them a bit spotty, but they are growing so much - can't believe they were only 9 when I first met most of them - seems like last week - and now shaving!!!
I'll miss the first training session on sunday morning - party saturday - don't expect to have stopped partying by that time - but I am looking forward to meeting up with the parents again - they are mostly lovely people, sport-politics aside, and we do have a laugh on a day when I would otherwise be mouldering in bed.
Oh! and the other interesting thing that happened today? That cute solicitor - he dropped me an email on what I think was a very lame pretext of wanting to copy one of my drafts - we plagiarise all the time in our game, so he needn't have asked - and what's more, I'd only cribbed from his contract, but with the odd Cherrypie device, but it did earn me an offer of alcohol - just hope it comes with dinner!
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