Being a stereo-typical Brit, I love nothing more than to converse and complain about the weather. Too hot, too cold, too wet, too dry, too snowy or not snowy enough, there is something to moan about, and today was no exception.
I got up at 7 am, as I do every morning, expecting the Indian Summer warmth we had been experiencing over the past couple of weeks, but no. Today it was not only wet and overcast, it was also cold with 90% chance of misery. Hurriedly, I threw breakfast together, created a masterpiece lunch-box, started an article for a private publisher, yelled at the dog for chasing the cats, and kissed the hubby good-bye as he went off to work. By 8.30 I had bundled the children into the car, even though we only live a short 10 minute walk from the school, and drove down the roads, dodging tractors and lorries, which count for our local rush-hour traffic.
Arriving, fifteen minutes before the bell rang, I stood in the playground, hugging myself. William, being a naughty little boy, stripped his coat off and jumped in nearest puddle. The headteacher smiled at me as she walked past while I scolded him, and forced him to hold my hand for the remaining few moments. Of course then Becca decided she needed the toilet. We rushed from door to door, none of them open of course, until we ended up back in the playground, where her teacher was now waiting for her to go inside. Kissing her little red nose good-bye, I dragged my now wet, cold and crying son back to the car.
Home, and not even 9 o’clock.
William was stripped, dried, told off again, and re-dressed only for him to remove his nappy and clothes five minutes later. Boys.
Finally sitting down with a cup of tea, I logged on to Facebook to see that I was not the only person wondering who had stolen our sunny weather, but rather than adding my own complaint, I simply updated my status to “Today will be mostly powered by tea, biscuits and deadlines”. Which is about right, as last night I went to bed close to one o’clock in the morning, leaving 6 articles unfinished and due by the end of the American day.
The joy of working for an American company, but living in England is time zones. You may have realised that by ‘joy’ I meant ‘pain in the neck, back and shoulders’. But somehow, fuelled by Tetley’s Tea, I managed to complete all my assignments, only to then open an email and message that mentioned how they should really be written and laid-out. Oh well, I’m sure someone will send them back to me if they’re not good enough.
As I pulled a cardigan around my freezing arms, refusing to switch on the central heating just yet, I remembered a quote I had read somewhere. “The great thing about working from home, is being able to go to work in your pyjamas.” It struck me with a baseball bat of truth. Soon, I would join the army of Mother’s who drop their kids off at school, still in their pjs, but with a thick coat pulled over and Ugg boots keeping their feet snuggly and warm. Such are the joys of freelancing.
But, until the snow falls and I can complain about schools being closed, roads being murderous and shops being out of essentials, I shall simply drive the kids to school, encouraging Global Warming to bring back my Indian Summer.