Today, thus far, has been one of my newly established 'admin days'. This, I believe, is a very important part of adult behaviour which I have never really had to face much before.
In the past few weeks, I have had e-mails coming out of my ears demanding my presence here, here and here. My dad also bought an unprecedented amount of tickets to shows and functions and things for Christmas presents, so already my calendar is overflowing.
Anyone who knows me will probably know this is very odd - I tend to be the one with little going on, who can say very quickly off-hand whether she's free one day or another. No more, apparently.
So I have spent a while organising my calendar, sorting it out with a diary, and filling in forms and e-mailing people about things. It's freaky, and I've had to put on a tweed blazer just to put me in the right mind-set.
I have also, as part of The Month of No Procrastination (i.e. January) FINALLY sent off my Driving License application, with the right money, with the right photos, documents and various approvals of people who, worryingly, consider me mature enough to drive. To drive, maybe - to fill in a simple form, throw it in an envelope with some cash and sufficient proof of my existence, not so much. Haha.
But the pressure of having to ask for lifts to absolutely every one of my sudden callings took its toll, and I have finally bitten the bullet.
Look out, kids. In about two weeks time, I cannot guarantee your safety on Her Majesty's roads. (The queen owns the roads, surely? Or is it the government? A debate for another, less busy day.)
Tata for now!
