Sofa and the City

Thank You and Goodbye!

2011-07-20T18:43:00.004+01:00

Hey gorgeous people

As my life becomes less sofa and more city it is time for me to say goodbye to Sofa and the City. What a wonderful time I have had on this blogging adventure, (well, apart from that one episode but hey we don't need to talk about that do we?) I want to say a BIG THANK YOU to you all for reading and for being part of this experience. Writing has become such a big part of my life and that's down to you: everyone who reads SATC gives me the confidence to write more. There is no going back now. I AM a writer!

And of course, I have met some amazing people. And the comments you have left me and the emails I have received from you have encouraged me as I have travelled on the bumpy (sometimes very bumpy!) recovery road.

And guess what? Just because SATC has come to its natural end, it doesn't mean you can't carry on reading about what I'm up to - of course, there is another blog, you don't get rid of me that easily. I am very excited to announce the launch of The Reinvention Tour. Please come over and say hello, I would love to see you.

I know many of you are on your own recovery journeys and I wish you all the best. And although I won't be writing any new posts here, SATC will still be here for you as a mini library of how I got to this point in my recovery.

I leave you with this: people DO GET BETTER from CFS. I know people who are completely recovered and I myself have improved significantly - and I am determined to continue to build on these improvements and live my dream as a successful writer (with a six-pack, obviously.)

Love and energy to you all.

Karen...xxxx

The Wellness Jigsaw

2011-07-16T16:59:00.000+01:00

Hey my lovelies

I have written a new post on my progress on The Chrysalis Effect Recovery Programme. You can read it here.

Hope you are having a lovely weekend. We are in the middle of assembling wardrobes, bet you're not having that much fun! xx

The Palio di Siena

2011-07-08T14:07:00.007+01:00

Oh Italy, I heart thee. It is rather like when Carrie knows the lady who has a scrunchy in her hair is not from New York; if you see someone in Italy who is not stylish they simply are NOT Italian. (I am actually surprised those sporting bumbags and trainers got through passport control.)

But the purpose of our trip was not to swoon at the stylish people, but to be there for Il Palio, the infamous bareback horse race. The race may only last 90 seconds but the build up, traditions and ceremonies surrounding Il Palio, which originated in the 14th century, dominate Siena for several days.

The main square - Piazza del Campo - is transformed into a race track: the cobbles are covered with dirt to make a loop around the square. Seventeen Contrade (districts which operate as mini states) take part in this prestigious event.

Colourful flags hang from buildings to mark contrade, scarves in contrade colours are proudly worn, horses are paraded through the narrow streets like prized processions, practice runs are done, and street parties are held.

On the morning of the race, each horse is blessed in its local church. The jockey in all his finery, a team representing the contrada (in brightly coloured medieval outfits) and the horse enter a small church. There is complete silence; the mood is serious and intense. (We watched as a tourist was nearly lynched for using a flash as he took a photo, which could have spooked the horse.)

The horse is in this tiny church.

The horse is carefully taken away, then the service breaks into loud singing and chanting; they could have been football supporters.

The finale of the blessing is two men performing a dance with large flags. The flags are swirled, thrown high into the air and jumped over - all in time to the rhythmic banging of a drum.

It was a privilege to witness the blessing; it felt like we were intruding on a private affair. As with most of the events we saw related to Il Palio, tourists are tolerated rather than embraced. It is like being at a hotel when there is a wedding: you are welcome to watch from a distance and wish the happy couple well, but if you were to try to sit at the top table you would be met with hostility.

When each contrada has completed its blessing they come together, performing their ceremonies for local dignitaries; culminating in a procession around the track.

Then after days of ceremonial build up ‘the’ moment arrives. The square is full to the brim and an eerie silence spreads through the crowd. Jockeys (in what look like brightly coloured pyjamas) sit on bareback horses trying to keep the horses still for the start. The race is three laps and over in less than two minutes. It is fast and dangerous; it is not uncommon for jockeys to fall.

The elation of the victorious contrada can be heard echoing around the town. The winning jockey is the hero, lifted into the air and passed around the throng of supporters. Then it is back into the church to celebrate and there is more football style crowd behaviour (which looks odd in a place of worship).

Of course, rumours are rife of mafia control - including horse doping, bribery and kidnapping - but I guess you have to be sitting at the top table to know about those things.

And more pictures:

'Our' district was called Pantera (Panther) and even had animal print fur trim on their outfits.

Taking a well deserved break from watching men on horses, enjoying a local Aperol Spritz. (Bitter orange and rhubarb liqueur with prosecco!)

HealKick: Support for Young People

2011-07-05T18:37:00.001+01:00

Hey my lovelies

Italy was just fabulous. I will write about the trip over the next few days but for today I have a guest post for you: Rachael writes about an on-line group for young people with neuro-immune illnesses. (I am not offended that I am too old!)

Thought some of you may find it interesting - thank you Rachael for sharing with Sofa and the City readers.

See you soon for tales from Italy....xx

Hello Everyone!

Rachael here from healKick. Have you heard? There is a new tool in the fight against neuro-immune illnesses like Myalgic Encephalomyelitis, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Fibromyalgia, Chronic Lyme disease, Lupus, Sarcoidosis, Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy, Multiple Sclerosis, Lupus, Multiple Chemical Sensitivity, and Mold Related Illness.

We are the first social network for young adults under 40 with neuro-immune illnesses. HealKick has many great features such as:

The ability to IM other patients on the site

Microblogging

A members map to find local patients in your area

The ability to pick the site's language and connect with other patients around the world

Disease-specific and general discussion forums for any thoughts or questions you have

A points system that allows you to earn prizes for being active on site

As a young person with a debilitating chronic illness I know first hand how isolating the experience can be. Suddenly socializing like my peers is seemingly impossible. With CFS/ME, the energy that could be used to hang out with people is suddenly used up by simply getting out of bed in the morning. Fibromyalgia causes sports and other stereotypical ‘young people’ activities to be so painful that they are out of the question. Lyme disease and viral infections mean that partying, alcohol or even restaurants are also out of the picture. It can be depressing and discouraging as a teen to wake up and realize that because of my illness, I have no one to talk to who truly understands.

But healKick has made a real difference to me and stopped me from feeling so isolated. It is a place where young people can come together with other people who can relate not just based on their illness, but based on their mutual phase of life. It is the chance to make friends with people around the country and around the world who can truly understand and relate to your day-to-day struggles. It is a place to ask tough questions, or share funny stories. It is a chance to fit in to a group and be accepted again.

If you’re a young adult under 40 with a neuro-immune illness, please come and check out healKick! We can’t wait to get to know you.

Please share this information with anyone and everyone that you know who may benefit from this group.

Hope to see you soon. You can also find us on Twitter.

Racheal

Ciao Bella!

2011-06-27T13:49:00.002+01:00

Hey my lovelies, this girl is off to Siena for the week.

Let's hope my capsule - hand baggage only! - wardrobe is up to stylish Italian standards.

Ciao!

I have always known...

2011-06-23T11:46:00.001+01:00

One of my good friends has just had her second baby. Aahh....I know. But as much as it gives me a gooey feeling inside it does not stir up any maternal feelings. ANY.

At 40 I think I am finally ready to say out loud that I am definitely not going to have children. Of course, it’s not impossible to have a child after 40, but it’s unlikely – especially if you are not trying; and you just don’t want to be a Mum.

I have never had any maternal feelings – EVER. I don’t know why. I come from a very normal loving family. Actually more than that: my parents are childhood sweethearts who are still sickeningly in love. I have no dark reason for not wanting a family but whatever the reason is I have never wanted to have a baby.

‘Is it because you are too selfish?’ people ask. Well, there is no doubt I am selfish but this is not the reason. That would mean I had thought about wanting to have children and decided not to. Whereas in fact the truth of the matter is I just don’t want to: there is nothing to think about. I haven’t ummed and ahhed about this - I just don’t have the feeling. The feeling I know exists because I have heard people talk about it, and I have seen it in action: that overwhelming desire – or maybe need is a better word – to have a baby.

I have always said ‘I don’t think I want to have children but you obviously don’t know what’s round the corner, I may change my mind.’

When I met Husband I could see my mum hoping that I would be swayed. Not because she would ever put me under pressure to have a baby, but because she would love a grandchild. (I think brother is on the case, so looks like she will get her wish.)

But nothing changed for me when I met Husband. When I think about our future and our life together, I think about all the wonderful travelling we are going to do and the amazing adventures we are going to have, not about what kind of parents we will be.

I was 33 when I met Husband. I think when you meet at that age you openly talk about children as the biological clock is ticking. (Not that I could ever hear mine!) I was very honest about my lack of desire to have children. He said he didn’t have strong feelings either way and that the way he felt about me was more important. (Aaahhh....) So we entered marriage with no plans to start a family.

There was a slight wobble a couple of years ago when Husband started feeling broody. We talked about it - a lot - and I was scared; there wasn’t a compromise. As much as I love my husband, I knew I couldn’t have a baby for him. I would have set him free if it had come to it, accepting that the desire to be a parent is bigger than his love for me, bigger than 'us'.

But time passed and he didn’t leave. He came to terms with his decision that he was not going to pursue having children. There was no pressure from me, I knew this was something he had to figure out on his own.

I check in with him every now and again as I sometimes worry he will wake up one day and regret not being a Dad. But I trust that it is his decision to make and that he will do what is right for him.

Me, I think I have always known I wouldn’t have children. I think I just said ‘well, you never know...’ to make it easier for other people. I don’t know why I didn’t get the maternal gene. It doesn’t bother me, why would it? It’s only a problem when you desperately want a baby but can’t have one. If you don’t want something there is nothing to feel sad about.

I know we are missing out on something magical and that being a parent is an experience that brings huge joy into people's lives, but it's just not for me. So whilst I look forward to meeting my friend's baby and I watch other friend's children in amazement, it doesn't evoke any other emotion. Now get me thinking about all the wonderful places in the world we are going to visit - lots of emotion!

Letting Go

2011-06-17T14:04:00.002+01:00

Hey my lovelies

I have written a new post for The Chrysalis Effect Recovery Programme on my progress and trying to ditch CFS Karen!

You can read it here.

Wishing you wonderful weekends...xx

Mission Possible

2011-06-08T18:31:00.014+01:00

In the spirit of transformation I am giving my body a makeover as well as our apartment. It is my ultimate fantasy to have a six-pack. I don’t know why, maybe it’s a case of wanting what you don’t have: I am an apple shape with a muffin top. Nice.

I am not big by anyone’s standards – even my own very harsh judgemental ones! – but I do have a belly. I’ve always had it – even my skinniest, pre-wedding, starved body still had a muffin top.

When I look at pictures of celebrities flaunting their toned abs in bikinis I am filled with lust. When I see my friends with flat stomachs I actually drool as I look on in envy. One of my friend's stomach is so incredibly flat yet she doesn’t really exercise and has had a baby. I on the other hand exercise a lot and haven’t had a baby. Fair? No, I don’t think so either.

Maybe 40 is not the best time to start out on my latest six pack mission – gravity is very much working against me – but I am curious; curious to see if I can actually achieve this. There’s no doubt that part of this is vanity, but it is more than that. I am in love with being strong, fit and healthy. This is what I was before all the CFS nonsense and this is what I want to be again. (Although even when I was younger and fitter, I didn’t have a really toned stomach. Yes, it may well be mission impossible.) And part of it is because if I can do this imagine what else I can achieve; it’s a symbol of proving to myself that anything is possible.

So about three months ago I stepped up my exercise routine - a big nod to my continued health improvements - and set out on my mission. I like exercising at home, as I can do it at a time that suits me, so I have armed myself with a series of DVDs by Jillian Michaels. She is hardcore: she screeches things at you like ‘DO NOT QUIT ON ME’ or ‘IF YOU WANT RESULTS THEY DON'T COME FOR FREE.’ And she says inspiring things like ‘you have no idea what you are capable of until you try.’ YES, I think every time I hear her say that, I CAN get a six-pack.

And the titles of her DVDs are a marketing masterpiece: 30 Day Shred, Six Week Six-Pack, Reduce Fat Boost Metabolism. Who wouldn’t say yes to any of these things? But they are also clearly a lie! I have done more than 30 days and I am not shredded; and there is not a sniff of a six-pack in sight. (Although my stomach muscles are really hurting today, so perhaps it IS lurking somewhere deep under my muffin top!)

I would write to her and complain but she may ask me difficult questions, about my diet for example, ones I don’t want to answer. (What do you mean I will never get a six-pack if I eat a sneaky piece of green and black’s and drink the odd cheeky glass of wine?) I have avoided going down the really strict diet route. I have a pretty good diet - lots of fresh fruit and vegetables, not much processed food, no dairy, not too much wheat and so on; I eat well most of the time but I have the odd treat along the way. I do NOT like the idea of restriction.

And although I may not have my six-pack – yet! – I am definitely stronger, fitter and more toned: exercises that I really struggled with at the beginning I can now manage easily; and I have moved on to the harder sessions of each DVD. I have done a session on average four times a week (even when we were in Malaysia – yes, totally dedicated. Results do not come for free people.) And I do one yoga session a week too.

So the experiment continues: can I achieve the results I want without becoming a carrot munching, spinach eating, no chocolate will ever pass my lips, diet bore? I will let you know.

No, there won’t be any before and after pictures – the Internet is not ready to see my belly. Trust me. Although, if I do achieve a six-pack I will probably live in a bikini and flaunt myself on the Internet regularly. Bet you can't wait.

I AM having a wonderful time at Ikea

2011-06-01T17:15:00.003+01:00

As I rushed out of the gate my handbag strap fell off my arm. My new, gorgeous, “you make my life complete” handbag; my handbag that I bought in Malaysia, so is a little hard to return.

Noooo....

But I didn’t have time for tears I was already late for my appointment. I ran back into the apartment and swapped over handbags, hurriedly explaining my distress to Husband.

“Is there anything missing from the strap that would stop us from being able to fix it?”

Husband sensed the scale of the emergency and stopped working.

“Yes, there’s a small gold bar about a cm long.”

Noooo.....

We both ran out and scanned the area CSI style but we couldn’t see it. I had dropped it on a cobblestone road and looking was making our eyes hurt. I was now really late, so I had to accept that nothing could be done - for now.

I went off to my appointment like a sulky teenager. As I started to drift into “this is typical, I treat myself to something I can’t afford and this is what happens, I can’t even take it back, life is sooo unfair, we’ll never find that gold bar...” I thought NO, I am going to use my affirmations - if they can work on energy they can work on handbags!

So off I went chanting to myself as I walked down the street. “My handbag is fixed, my handbag is fixed, my handbag is fixed...”

I got back a few hours later and thought I’d have another look for the gold bar. I still couldn’t see it. As I returned to the apartment, the window cleaner asked me what I was looking for. He said he would keep his eye out. But I had dropped it outside the apartment gate - which was nowhere near where he was working - so I didn’t give it much thought and went inside. About ten minutes later the door buzzer rang: the window cleaner had found the gold bar. I couldn’t believe it. He had gone to where he had seen me looking and clearly done a much better quality search than Husband or I! And then he had found which apartment I was in so he could return it. I was so touched; what a lovely act of kindness.

And I know this is a frivolous example but I thought it illustrated beautifully how a shift in perspective can make such a difference. If I had stayed in my negative “the world is against me” stance I would not have gone out a second time to look for the gold bar, I would not have bumped into the window cleaner, I probably wouldn’t have taken the time to explain properly to him what I was looking for (because what would be the point, the world is against me!) And the bar would not have been found. (And my life would not be complete!)

And I have been trying really hard to use this shift in perspective in everyday life to manage stress and keep my mind open to the wonderful world of healing. If I am having unhelpful thoughts I literally drown them out with affirmations:

A whiff of tiredness and I am chanting: “My body is strong and healthy and full of amazing energy.”

A touch of refurbishment stress and I am saying to myself: “I have all the time and energy I need to do everything I want to do today.” Or: “I am having a wonderful time at Ikea” (even though it is half term and full of snotty misbehaved kids.)

A sneaky self hate thought such as “yuk, I am so fed up with my jelly belly” is attacked with “I am strong, fit, slim and toned.” And if I’m really in the mood for fun I throw in “...with a gorgeous six-pack!”

It’s so easy for thoughts to spiral out of control isn’t it? A slight dip in energy and ten thoughts later I am never getting fully better; or one brat too many in Ikea and before I know it I can’t cope with this refurbishment project.

I’ve been doing affirmations consistently for about six weeks now, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my energy is continuing to improve. When I am stuck in a stress cycle I just flood it with affirmations. Sometimes it’s annoying - I just want my thoughts to work smoothly on their own. But they can be like naughty children and letting them carry on is very noisy.

And there is something about the way you say affirmations – you mentally put yourself in the situation you want to be in; you are tricking your mind. If I say to myself “don’t get stressed” my mind just picks up the word stressed. If I say to myself “I am calm and relaxed” it only has positive words to work with.

I tell you that six-pack is on its way!

The Road to Sofa Heaven

2011-05-24T13:05:00.001+01:00

'Hi, we’re just calling to let you know your sofas are ready for delivery.'

This is a big moment. A moment I have been looking forward to for four years - but I am not feeling the love.

'Oh. They’re not supposed to be ready for another three weeks.' Mild panic sets in. 'We’re in the middle of getting the apartment painted, is there anyway you could hold them for a week?'

'No, sorry, we can’t, we don’t have any storage capacity.'

Panic is definitely moving on from mild. I’m fairly sure her storage capacity is more than mine right now. I have a two bedroom apartment. She has a rather large furniture shop AND a warehouse. AND I have all our bedroom furniture in our lounge as we are getting our bedroom painted and the floor done. Oh and we already have two sofas. Of course, if she had stuck to the plan, the bedroom furniture would be back where it should be; and our old sofas would be gone. But she didn’t and she is three weeks early; my perfect planning did not allow for that.

Every lounge needs a...double bed?!

And this is the rest of the living space housing more of the bedroom - yup loads of room for two extra sofas!

And this is what the last few weeks have been like. I may be the Interior Design Director of this refurbishment project but I don’t know what I am doing. I may have the creative flair - well some anyway. And I am incredibly organised - this one is just fact. But the trouble is I haven’t done a refurbishment project before and I don’t know what I don’t know. And this little bugger keeps catching me right out.

For example, I ordered the most beautiful curtains and curtain poles. I checked everything over: made sure the measurements of the poles were correct; made sure I had the right finials (love this word...) and brackets; took the curtains out of the packet and checked they were the right size and had the right headings; checked that the fabric colour matched the colour of the new sofas; agreed slot with husband to put curtains up. I know, can you get more organised?! Then when we got everything out to put them up I realised something wasn’t quite right: we didn’t have curtain hooks. I mean, I didn’t even know curtain hooks existed. And in my defence, the description for the curtain poles told me they came with everything I needed - clearly it lied. So scheduled curtain hanging slot (which had to be adhered to or other parts of plan would fall apart) was eaten in to by mad wife running into town to the curtain shop to grill the sales assistant on curtain hooks and how to hang curtains.

But oh so worth it. New sofas are purple...it's going to be a palace I tell you. (Oh and ignore book shelf, that is OBVIOUSLY not going to make the cut...)

But just call me a Trouble Shooter. The bigger the problem is the bigger the bat I get out; nothing is standing in between my and my success as an Interior Design Director. Nothing. (I have shifted two sofas in two days to make space for my new sofas which are being delivered today.) It is like being back at work. I have a budget, I have deadlines and I have a spreadsheet. Okay I don’t have a team, or a boss, or get paid but I'm still important; it is probably the most responsibility I’ve had since I left the corporate world seven years ago!

And this project symbolises the next stage in my transformation programme. We have been making do for so long, living with furniture we did not really like because the alternative was just unthinkable. This is a MAJOR step forward for me.

And for the first time in seven years I feel like I am contributing to Cripps Ltd. As my hypnotherapist said to me 'Interior Designers are really expensive Karen and you’re doing it for free.' Yeah, that’s how great a wife I am, I am not even charging Husband for pulling my weight for the the first time in seven years. I should get an award or something. Ooh a plaque. We could hang it in our new living room.

The Seven Year Scratch

2011-05-17T17:09:00.002+01:00

As they walked into the restaurant it was like I saw them yesterday; as we hugged, squealed and chatted excitedly (at a pace that was probably a little frightening to anyone watching!) it was like we were still 20. But we aren’t, some of us are already 40 and those that aren’t soon will be. It is the weirdness of time: how can it seem like yesterday and years ago in the same moment?

I haven’t seen my girlfriends from university for over seven years, they are scattered all over the country and for obvious reasons it’s just been too difficult for me to catch up with them. But as my health continues to improve we arranged a weekend in Nottingham so that I could see everyone.

I hadn't prepared myself for the kaleidoscope of emotions I would feel. I have felt sheer joy at seeing these wonderful ladies again after all this time; these ladies who played such a big part in my young adult life; these ladies who I have laughed with, who I have cried with, who have seen the best of me, who have seen the worst of me, who are intelligent, funny, unique and fascinating.

I have also felt an overwhelming - and unexpected - sadness; sad that I have not been able to be a part of these ladies amazing lives for the last seven years. Perhaps I have allowed myself to grieve for a part of my life I have not been able to live fully through the CFS years. I don’t think I allow myself to do this very often; I don’t like to focus on what I have missed out on. It never seems helpful to do that and it can also be too painful. But maybe letting those feelings out is another way of moving forward.

And there was a sense of reflection at how each of our lives has turned out. Each of us has experienced our own highs and lows. There have been weddings, divorces, broken hearts, adventures, motherhood – and all that it brings, challenges in relationships (including, of course, some very bad men choices!), successful careers, exotic travels and marathons run.

My university friends are an eclectic mix; it was almost as if we bonded because we didn’t fit in. I went to Durham University and it was very heavily dominated by people from public school (I am not sure if this is still the case). And we were the people who had taken a different route to get there. Some of us had come from normal schools (shock – horror!), some of us were international students, some of us were well off and some of us not so much.

I consider myself very privileged to have become friends with such a diverse group of people - I’m not sure that happens very often, I think in life we tend to meet and connect with people who are from similar backgrounds. And I have learnt so much from these amazing ladies.

And that learning has been met in equal measure with sheer joyous laughter and fun. We were always good at fun and it seems we still are; as bubbles were sipped and memories revisited we howled. Memories that haven’t been revisited for so long – some of them so embarrassing they may have been better kept tucked away! And we shared stories of our lives, laughing at our mistakes (those bad choices in men again) and reflecting on what we have achieved. For me this was emotional; I sometimes struggle to be at peace with the turn my life took and it can be hard to face up to the what could have been, particularly in my career.

But I am not naive; I know that the grass can often seem greener when it truly is not. And whilst I am envious of one friend’s career, I know the challenge of juggling that and motherhood is no walk in the park. And whilst another friend has married into money, it has clearly been accompanied with a difficult set of decisions and responsibilities. And I am envious of the financial independence some of my friends still have, the independence I have lost through illness. But I also know that I am very lucky to have a loving partner I can depend on.

And isn’t this what life is like, we do our best to make the most of the situations that we are in; to overcome life’s obstacles, whatever those obstacles are. And I have a warm proud feeling for my friends, they have faced their lows with bravery and strength, and they do not take for granted their highs; they hug those blessings with a warm appreciation. But most of all - they all looked really HOT; not one of them had let themselves go, not even a little bit! Not bad for a group of ladies heading into their forties ha.

And most importantly for me, I am confident that I am now well enough that it won’t be another seven years before I see these wonderful friends again. And that in itself has got to be worth another glass of bubbles...

If my Nanna can do it...

2011-05-11T16:14:00.003+01:00

I would love to be able to say it is only the big things in life that stress me out; that being ill has taught me a greater sense of what is important; that I face life head on with a ballsy attitude - but that is the fantasy me. The actual me is a stress head.

I think I was probably always like this, but before CFS I could just handle it better. And also - as much as I hate admitting it - somewhere along the CFS road my confidence got knocked and things I used to take in my stride now seem like a big deal. When I was really unwell I couldn’t manage very much and just got out of practice at living a normal life. So as I get physically stronger I know I have to get my confidence mojo back too.

So that is exactly what I am doing at the moment; I am relearning to trust that my body can cope with normal activities and beginning to take life in my stride again. This is easier said than done. The trust in my body has been broken over seven years and takes time to rebuild. There is also the fact that I am not 100% well. Yes, I am a lot better but I still can’t just do what I want; I have to pace and take really good care of myself. But to move forward I have to trust what I CAN do and spend less time worrying about what I can’t do.

Trust challenge number one is our refurbishment project, a project that I would have not been able to even contemplate a couple of years ago. I had the decorators in last week to start painting the apartment. This is a major step: it's like saying to the world I know I can get up EVERY DAY by 7 am for a week; that I trust I will feel okay EVERY DAY for a week; that I can give up my very precious sofa (well during the day!) EVERY DAY for a week. I won’t lie, I was a little apprehensive. But I did it and I coped. (I made a den in my bedroom and if I needed to rest I just went in there and pretended I was very busy on my laptop.)

Then this weekend it has been my brother's wedding (congratulations Bro!) Big social events used to be a normal part of my life but now they scare me. Social lives and CFS aren't a winning combination and I just don't go to many big social events any more. And when I do I worry: I worry about being able to keep up, I worry about how long I will last before I have to make a discrete exit, I worry about whether I will actually feel okay on the day, I worry about what I will look like and how I will come across. Then there is just the sheer fact that I am socially rusty. But obviously I wasn't going to miss my brother's wedding whatever crazy stuff was going on in my head. And I did it; I was a social butterfly, working the room like a pro and looking like any normal sister at a wedding - well, until I had to leave at 8 pm! But as my Auntie said to me: “you've been here for the best bits Karen. All you’re missing now is everyone getting drunk...”

Aaahhh......

How lucky is Lauren marrying into this bunch...!

Oh and just to freak myself out even more I decided to do a speech at the wedding - in front of 100 people - and public speaking REALLY scares me. I was shaking when I stood up. What if I can’t speak without my voice wobbling? What if no one laughs? What if I look fat? What if...what if....what if...But I did it, because I am a ballsy woman - or at least a wanna be ballsy woman.

On stage. Under a spotlight. In front of 100 people. Gulp.

And then I have travelled solo to and from Edinburgh by train (with a lot of luggage and several train changes I may add). Something I would have done without thinking about before all this nonsense, but something that now feels like a big deal. I travel a lot with Husband but very rarely go out of Nottingham on my own. When I am with him there is something comforting about knowing that if you don’t feel very well there is someone else to take care of you. For me, going solo is stepping up to the trust your body plate big style.

But I know I have to man up. How else am I going to lead a normal life again? So I am facing one stress and one fear at a time, trusting that by making every day stuff seem normal again the next time I do it it will be easier and the time after that it will be even easier and before I know it I will be me again.

Oh and my Nanna who is 85 is just about to move house, is excited about her refurbishment plans (not stressed like her granddaughter) and gave a speech at the wedding that received a standing ovation. Yes, my Nanna is putting me to shame. And jeez if my Nanna can do these things without batting an eyelid I need to get a grip. A big ballsy, I am back grip.

And as I celebrate the progress that I am making I would like to take a moment to acknowledge all of those who are not so lucky. This week is M.E. Awareness Week. Many people are severely affected with this illness and fight to get the treatment they need and deserve. Please look at my amazing friend Laurel's blog if you would like to know more about what it is like to live with severe M.E.

More Baby Steps...

2011-05-03T13:48:00.002+01:00

Hey lovely people

I have a new guest post on my progress on The Chrysalis Effect Recovery Programme. You can click here if you fancy a read.

Hope you are having a fabulous day. Love and energy...x

Happy Birthday Sofa and the City!

2011-04-28T14:21:00.006+01:00

This week Sofa and the City has reached the grand old age of one!

Until I started blogging, the only writing I had done was a few articles for the local ME group's newsletter, and I was surpised to discover I liked writing. So I had a plan that once my health was stronger I would explore writing; as I lay on my sofa I fantasised about sitting in coffee shops with my laptop writing my weekly column for Grazia. And as time on the sofa was getting less I knew I was ready to take my first step.

When I started blogging a year ago it was an experiment; a blog seemed a good way of having a go at writing – albeit a rather public way. I wanted to see if I enjoyed writing on a regular basis; if I was any good at it; if I could come up with things to say every week (really not sure why I was worried about this one!); and to see if anyone would actually read what I had to say.

And what an experiment it has been. There is so much of blogging that has been unexpected: the level of interaction with readers, the amazing comments and emails (and of course, the not so amazing!), the wonderful people I have met, the cathartic process of writing, the way it has become an important part of my life - and of my recovery.

I can honestly say I have never run out of writing material (now whether you find what I say interesting or not is a different matter). To be honest I always have about ten blog posts running round my head but many don't come to fruition because life gets in the way - so count yourself lucky I say.

In the early days I would be shaking as I pressed publish and my thoughts trundled off into cyberspace. The shaking has stopped but I still get nervous about putting myself out there. But I keep doing it because I have discovered that I LOVE writing and by writing regularly I have improved my writing style and my confidence as a writer has grown.

And the most exciting part of all of this to me is that I have found a passion; I've always wanted a passion but despite extensive looking could never seem to find one. I was envious of people who have something that makes their heart sing: my hairdresser who is not just a hairdresser but IS a hairdresser; my husband who has a love affair with food and cooking; the artist who is not complete if she cannot paint. But not anymore - my heart can join in with the best of them.

So, not sure how to break this to you: I am not going anywhere; I fully intend to carry on with my writing apprenticeship. The goal has always been to use the blog as a stepping stone to other writing opportunities, a way of building a CV - from nothing - at the age of 40. (Yup, mid life reinvention...)

So I want to say a BIG thank you: firstly, to all the fabulous Sofa and the City readers. You have turned this into an amazing journey. Any time someone reads what I have written it makes me smile. And I love you whatever type of reader you are - some people like to comment and others just like to read. Some of you visit for a short time and some of you are regular readers. Whichever type of reader you are you will always be welcome here.

My second thank you goes to CFS. Excuse my stroll into cliche land, but many good things have come out of CFS, many unexpected things - and writing is most definitely one of them. Would I have ever gone down this path in my previous life? I very much doubt it. The opportunity to try and learn something new has been a wonderful gift.

Am I getting too cheesy? Probably! I think I may have started heading into cringe worthy acceptance speech territory. So, I will stop. Well, after one last smidge of mushiness: from the bottom of my singing heart thank you for being part of my blogging adventure.

Fast Cars and Slow Women

2011-04-21T14:04:00.006+01:00

If variety is the spice of life then our trip to Malaysia was as spicy as it comes: from Formula One to tranquil beaches, from 5 star hotels to street food, from hot sunshine to pouring rain, from crazy markets to peaceful temples, it was a delicious feast of new and interesting experiences.

Our trips are a constant reminder to me of how fascinating the world is. Although this was not my first visit to Asia, I am still in awe of the many differences to the UK. We started in Kuala Lumpur, planned so we could go to the Grand Prix: Husband is a huge F1 fan. I am a fan too but on a rather smaller scale (I tend to be a total girl in my driver choices: Jenson for being hot and Vettel for being lovely!) but I could not fail to be impressed by the occasion. The sheer excitement of being surrounded by people - or should I say men - who were so passionate about the invent was infectious. And the noise - oh so ‘Alpha Male’.

In between watching fast cars we explored the city, taking in local markets (we picked up a few rather nice 'designer' pieces), sampled local food, and looked in amazement at the Petronas Twin Towers.

We then took the train to Penang. The landscape in Penang is completely different: the architecture is colonial and there is a larger Chinese influence; the temples were breathtaking and so wonderfully calming.

Look how zen I look!

Our next and final stop was Langkawi. We got the ferry from Penang along with 300 back packers - I think we were the only people over 20 (although we didn't see any of these 'youngsters' once we were on the island). We had six nights there so it was a wonderful opportunity to combine sightseeing with some serious relaxing.

We trekked - okay, not quite. But there were 450 steps - to see a gorgeous waterfall, chatting to monkeys on route; we took the steepest and longest cable car in the world - which is quite scary for someone who is afraid of heights (no, not sure why I went in it either!); we had picture postcard moments on tranquil deserted beaches; and we saw some incredibly colourful wildlife.

So worth the trekking!

Yeah...what you looking at?

Yup...STEEP. But wow the views were amazing.

It's a hard life...

Hello!

As for the culinary part of our trip it deserves its own special mention. Let's just say foodie husband was impressed. We sampled blue rice, fish head curry, 'smelly' durian fruit, chose 'our' fish from fish tanks (yes, there was some guilt as 'my' crab was taken away but not enough to stop me from eating it), sampled street food, and marvelled at the colours and flavours of exotic fruits.

Street food madness in Kuala Lumpur

The VERY smelly durian fruit being prepared.

This was the choice at a seafood restaurant in Penang...!

Sorry...

And the rather large cherry on my gorgeous travelling cake was an upgrade to Business Class on the way home (have no idea why - we didn't even ask). And not just any old Business Class either but with the leader of the premiere division, Emirates. (Thank you Emirates. I love you and would always be happy to write amazing reviews in exchange for upgrades.) I did my best to adopt my cool 'yeah I always travel Business Class' persona, rather than skipping and squealing like an over excited puppy (and panicking about whether I had the right look going on and wondering if it would be showing my cattle class roots if I pulled out my Marian Keyes...) But come on. OH. MY. GOD.

I know....!

I was planning to sleep for the journey but there were so many cool things to play with and I couldn't bear the thought of missing out. (Yeah, totally cool me.) I'm not sure what my favourite part was: the amount of space (I reckon at least six Ryan Air seats worth); the fact my seat turned into a full on lie down bed (complete with mattress and massage function); the 5 star standard food, drink and service, including having my table set for me; the on board bar with champagne and canapes; the clean toilets (so clean I didn't have to hover!); George Clooney in front of me - yeah okay, you got me, he was in a film. But the way the experience was panning out, it so could have been. Sorry getting carried away. But you get my drift. Lush. Lush. Lush. It was the perfect end to a magical adventure.

Many of you ask me how I manage these trips. The simple answer is Husband. He makes it so easy for me - he plans and takes care of everything. I basically focus on turning up. And then I use pacing, relaxation, hypnotherapy, affirmations and glorious, glorious sleep.

This trip was a big deal for me, it was a psychological and physical milestone. The last time we did long haul was two and a half years ago - to Argentina - and it took me about four months to recover. Understandably this made me nervous about travelling long distance, which is why we have stayed 'local' in the last couple of years. But this time I KNOW I will not need this recovery time; my body is so much stronger and fitter than it was then. (Not to say I won't be having some quality time with my sofa for the next couple of days to recharge.)

And I am not embarrassed to say that I am crying as I write this. It is another baby step on the recovery road - one which I thoroughly enjoyed taking. Anyway, enough of this soppiness. Where next Husband? If only we could afford to go Business Class with Emirates we could do long haul EVERY TIME.

Affirmations, Chocolate and Hot Men

2011-03-31T13:40:00.003+01:00

I fear I am turning into one of those women who you find in book shops on a Saturday with a pile of self help books. You know the ones I mean; they have a slight tinge of sadness and desperation to them and you just know they will be crying into their buckets of wine later - Bridget Jones style. Although I hope my ‘tinge’ is slightly less on the desperate side.

It would be fair to say that I do delve into the world of self help on a regular basis. (Oh God – I am one of those women.) But with the events a few weeks ago I seem to have delved a bit deeper than normal. (Yes, the irony is not lost on me: criticised for embracing a psychological component in recovery, pick myself up by doing more psychological stuff.)

Whichever way I look at it, the whole blog saga had a really negative impact on me. And yes that impact was psychological but my body is not that great at handling stress and so inevitably there was a physical chain reaction. It also knocked my confidence in my belief in recovery and my recovery strategy; I think this was the most damaging part of the experience.

So I have overdosed on self help to encourage the positive me back: I have had a coaching session, a hypnotherapy session, said what feels like a million affirmations (is it normal to walk down the street saying affirmations out loud?), done extra yoga, worked on my recovery programme; and I’m reading ‘You Can Heal Your Life’ by Louise Hay. And here is the thing - all this stuff helps me; I am once again reminded that the ‘mumbo jumbo’ is maybe not so ‘mumbo jumbo.’

And when I have needed a break from being ‘zen’ I have had chocolate therapy, wine therapy and hot men on TV therapy. (Is it just me or do there seem to be a lot of hotties on TV at the moment? There is McSteamy in Grey’s; Lenny in The Big C; some French guy in Brothers and Sisters – I don’t even know his name but who cares; and of course, Romeo in Home and Away.)

Oh and I have been putting together a refurbishment plan for our apartment. So as well as being a crazy woman who walks down the street saying affirmations to herself, I am now also the crazy woman who gets excited about fabric swatches and new lamp shades; and I now even enjoy spending time in John Lewis home department. Yep – I am now THAT woman.

And I am glad to report that my ‘take care of me package’ has worked. I am back on track - which is super handy as we go to Malaysia for two weeks on Wednesday. We haven’t done long haul for a couple of years (for obvious reasons) so this is a great step forward for me. I won’t lie, I am a little apprehensive - mainly about the travelling. But hey I have my friend pacing and I have a separate bag for my self help books! And of course, I have the most important ingredient: a husband who makes these trips possible for me. (And if he was on TV I would have included him in the hotties’ list.)

I have missed writing and I have missed my blogging friends so I just wanted to say hi before we go away. And you know what? I think I will be ready to come back to blogging after Malaysia. I think the temptation to write about the experience will be too great – especially as our adventure includes a trip to the Grand Prix.

See you soon my lovelies. Lots of love...xx

Well...I didn't see that coming!

2011-03-10T14:13:00.005Z

I just had to come on and say a HUGE thank you to everyone for being so wonderfully supportive.

I have been inundated with emails and messages with words of support, kindness and inspiration. I am overwhelmed with how much love there is out there.

I am telling you because I wanted to share the love with all of you. (Not just because I want to make myself look popular!) And I have been reminded of what I already know, but it never hurts to hear it again:

People do recover from M.E./CFS but everyone's road to recovery is unique.

Amongst the wonderful support people have given me, they have also shared their own amazing stories of how they have improved/or are improving their health: The Lightning Process, Lymphatic Massage, The Gupta Amygdala Training Programme, Supplements, Kinesiology, Thought Force Therapy, CBT, The Optimum Health Clinic and many more.

I think it's good to be reminded of the progress people are making with whatever version they have of this complicated illness. It can be hard when we try something (or lots of somethings!) that doesn't work for us - but maybe the next thing will, or maybe it will be another piece of our wellness jigsaw. I am choosing to carry on believing that recovery is possible.

I have always tried to have an open door policy on the blog - but I think we can safely say that that hasn't worked out all that well for me. So I have implemented comment approval - not to stop people from challenging me but to stop comments which are aggressive and rude.

Take care of yourself lovely, lovely people; I wish you all the best on which ever recovery path you are travelling on.

And I will be back very soon.

xxxxxx

Time out

2011-03-07T08:59:00.014Z

Hey everyone

I am going to take a mini break from blogging. As some of you will know there has been a lot of negativity surrounding my blog over the last couple of days. This type of negativity is draining and has a hugely detrimental effect on my health. So I am sure you will understand that I have decided to give myself some annual leave - I am after all my own boss!

I understand that The Chrysalis Effect Recovery Programme is controversial and I am sorry if people feel that by being associated with this programme I am undermining how serious M.E. can be; I respect that this type of programme is not for everyone.

Thank you to all of you who have supported me over the last couple of days.

Love and energy...xx

Baby Steps! Baby Steps! Baby Steps!

2011-02-25T07:21:00.005Z

Hey lovelies

I've written another post about my journey on The Chrysalis Effect Recovery Programme called Baby Steps! Baby Steps! Baby Steps! Maybe if I say it often enough I will actually get the hang of it!

Wishing you all fabulous weekends...xx

Raising Your Spirit

2011-02-17T14:57:00.002Z

Hi Everyone

I've written a guest post about my progress on The Chrysalis Effect Recovery Programme. It's called Raising Your Spirit and includes 'Fun Angels'. (Yes, they exist!) Would love to see you over there. Hope you like it.

Love and energy....x

Sun, sea...and laziness

2011-02-14T15:06:00.001Z

I have discovered the joy of being lazy: doing nothing out of choice; doing nothing because it feels delicious and decadent; and most importantly, doing nothing without a side helping of feeling awful. This is perhaps the biggest - baby! - step on my recovery journey.

When I was really unwell, I did so much nothing that all I wanted to do was something; I became obsessed with getting off the sofa. Maybe it is because the situation was forced on me; maybe it is because the kind of nothing you do is so far from relaxing because it was generally accompanied with feeling unwell, discomfort or pain; maybe it is because there was no balance in my life – trust me too much nothing is dull. (When friends who were having a busy week at work would say to me ‘oh, I so wish I was at home on the sofa today.’ The key word is today. They didn’t want years of lying on a sofa, just a couple of days break from the relentlessness of work, where as I was craving a couple of days break from the relentlessness of the sofa.)

But something strange - and rather wonderful - happened this holiday: I positively enjoyed being lazy. Lying around is fun. Doing nothing is fun. Wasting time is fun. I have seen the ‘do nothing’ light!

If I look back to when I was really unwell, I had this image of ‘normal’ life in my head which was all about being busy. But of course, most people are busy some of the time and lazy some of the time; and they savour their laziness because it is a treat, a break from the treadmill of work and life.

And this holiday, I experienced that. For the first time in years I was looking forward to going away with the sole purpose of relaxing. Normally our trips are about sightseeing and experiences; why would I want to go away to do nothing when I spent a lot of time doing nothing at home? But this time we actively chose Tenerife for some sunshine and relaxation.

My life is now busier. (Okay, not busy in a ‘normal’ sense but hey busy for me.) And the few weeks leading up to my birthday where all about lists and organising; I was actually busy enough to crave relaxing.

And oh how I relaxed. (I actually got a bit scared that I had relaxed so much I may never start again.) Lots of sleep was followed by leisurely starts to the day. I would get up, make my breakfast and watch an episode of Sex and the City. (It just seemed like the perfect start.) I would then write my journal and then gently persuade myself it was time for a shower. I would then do my yoga by the window overlooking the sea – heavenly.

We would then go out for a few hours to explore a part of the island: the volcanic landscape is weird to look at, not necessarily beautiful but a fascinating part of nature; we visited the Capital for a city fix and some authentic cuisine; we drove along the coast with the roof down soaking up the warmth and fresh air; we found gorgeous bays to admire with waves lapping over rocks and exploding like fireworks; and we amused ourselves by visiting one of the tacky parts of the island where full English breakfast’s were the most popular offering and pink beer bellies paraded along the sea front (so proud to be British).

Sampling authentic cuisine in Santa Cruz (no English breakfast's for us!)

And then it was siesta time – I love Spanish culture. Then ‘Chef Mike’ (Husband...) experimented in the kitchen (his idea of relaxing) whilst I read my book. Fish stew, garlic prawns, octopus where a few of the offerings that we enjoyed on the balcony overlooking the sea. Then to wind down from our 'busy' days we watched a film or read. (And being well enough to read makes me smile every time I pick up my book.)

The view from our balcony...and perfect location to enjoy Chef Mike's creations!

And here is the crux of the matter: relaxing is fun, being ill is not. And being well enough to relax may sound like an oxymoron – but actually it is delicious, decadent progress.

Do you enjoy being lazy? What’s your idea of relaxing? Or are you one of the busy people?! Would love to hear your thoughts...xx

Sun, sea and...

2011-02-04T13:03:00.002Z

Hey lovely blogging friends

I am off on holiday tomorrow for a week - I need a break from all the birthday celebrations. We are going to Santa Cruz in Tenerife. (No this is not in the 'party' area of the island and no we won't be doing shots in Linekars!)

See you soon for more blogging fun. Love and energy...xx

The F Word

2011-02-01T10:32:00.002Z

If I’d known turning 40 was going to be so much fun I would have started embracing it much earlier. I have spent the last three days celebrating (and I’m only half way through my celebrations). It’s a very big commitment this being 40 lark but I think I have stepped up.

I have been overwhelmed by my husband, friends and families kindness - perhaps I was a bit quick to judge society for making such a big deal out of turning 40 as I can definitely say this had major benefits.

Friends travelled just for me, brought gifts that had taken so much thought, said kind words, made me laugh, made me cry, made me feel loved and made me feel part of something amazing: something I am not even sure I can articulate. It is fair to say my social life has had some limitations over the last few years and maybe that is what made this occasion mean so much to me. I have a group of amazing friends who are still here despite the fact that I can not always play the part in their lives I would like to.

Careful...they're my legs you're cutting off!

Everyone sang to my my funky hymn sheet. We did lunch rather than dinner, we hung out in our pyjamas when we (okay I!) needed some down time, we started at times that suited me. It was perfect. My stomach hurts from so much laughing (I know an ab work out thrown in too).

So turning 40 has been wonderful. And I’m a couple of days in now and there doesn’t appear to be any sign of a mid life crisis: result. The only challenge is I can’t quite seem to say it out loud, saying I am 40 just seems to get stuck on the way out or I seem to end up whispering it. But hey, that’s a small thing. I mean who asks someone of my age their age anyway? I reckon if I play my cards right I’ll never have to say my age out loud again.

Well, best go have a trip to plan for. Yes, next part of the celebrations is a week away (we go to Tenerife for a week on Saturday). What’s a girl to do, not my fault society is so big on this turning 40 thing: just gotta roll with it.

An emotional goodbye

2011-01-25T15:26:00.005Z

This is my last week of being a 30 something. *Sob* I can’t believe it. Even though clearly it is not a surprise to me - and happens to everyone! - I still don’t appear to be ready. When I was a twenty something life seemed endless and 40 year olds seemed ancient. And now I am about to be one them. *More sobs*

I am not sure when I started realising that life is not endless and time is precious. Having health challenges put the ball in motion; before that I had never really experienced big unexpected wrong turns in life. Then as I headed towards my late 30’s I started thinking about life and death. Oh, I will die. Oh, time is not to be wasted. Oh, probably best if I try and make the most of every day...and so on.

Over the last few months I have definitely wobbled over turning 40; my life is not where I thought it would be (whose is?); I don’t like those wrinkles round my eyes (which are only going to get worse...); I am half way - what have I achieved? Blah. Blah. Blah.

I know I am not alone in this wobbling; I have watched friends struggle with turning 40. Our culture doesn’t help that’s for sure. Why do we make such a big deal out of the end of decade birthdays? No one says to you what are you doing for your 39th birthday? But EVERYONE says what are you doing for you 40th? Then it is referred to as the 'Big 4-0-.' What’s that all about? All the fuss practically forces you into assessing where your life is. And if you stop to think about it, of course you are going to wobble.

I’ve been here before; I wobbled at my 30th. I didn’t think I had achieved everything I SHOULD have done by the time I was 30. So it’s good to know 10 years on I’m having similar thoughts...ha ha, so much wisdom gained in those 10 years. But something has shifted in the last few weeks and I am no longer dreading it. And I have gone from being unsure if I wanted to celebrate my birthday to planning four different celebrations.

The shift started with my latest hypnotherapy MP3: mid life crisis. (I know, I am such a drama queen.) There is a wonderful part in the session where the hypnotherapist talks about a lady who takes up art at 78 and practices for 21 years; in other words, there are still many new things to come. I have also been looking at other people in my life who are older than me, they certainly haven’t stopped living. My parents who are still like naughty teenagers; the ladies in my yoga class who may be older but are way bendier than I am; my Nanna who is 85 and still goes to her exercise class, co ordinates her outfits and tells me she is going out kicking!

So I have gone from wobbling to embracing: I am embracing my wonderful life and accepting certain things are just the way they are; I am embracing that I will always have chubby knees, however much exercise I do; I am embracing that I will always have dark circles under my eyes because it is the way God made me; I am embracing that my Top Shop days are numbered. (Well, I’m trying to anyway: to support the embracing I have clever dressing, make up and Country Casuals to look forward to!) And more easily, I am embracing the fact that actually I am happier now than I was at 30.

Heading towards 40 has also given me a subtle kick up the bum. There is something motivating about having an awareness of the precious nature of life. Every day is to be enjoyed - even the tough days. Things that you are unhappy with are to be changed - not be put up with. Small things are to be appreciated. So with this in mind, I have a renewed focus on recovery and I am planning lots of wonderful things for this year. And we are looking for a new apartment; this may actually be the year that I get my walk in wardrobe.

And if my Nanna can be fabulous at 85 I can sure as hell be fabulous at 40. And as my friend said to me: 'it could be worse. You could be turning 50.'

How do you feel about your age? Would love to hear your thoughts...xx

Not So Desperate Housewife

2011-01-20T13:54:00.003Z

Apparently it’s good to have a hobby; hobbies’ broaden the mind, bring variety into your life, distract you from the day to day routine and are relaxing. So in the spirit of the New Year I’ve been out and got myself a new hobby, no not flower arranging, line dancing or learning Spanish: looking for a new apartment.

Okay, here’s the thing, I am REALLY nosey and what better way to have a good nose than looking in other people’s homes. People fascinate me in all kind of ways: how they tick, what motivates them, what choices they make in life, how they see the world; I am constantly amazed by how different we all are. And an interesting addition to this list is how people live.

I like my living space tidy and calm (Husband says I am in the upper quartile for tidiness – yes he has analyst tendencies) and I know not everyone lives like this; I have a best friend who reminds me of this on a regular basis. In fact she thinks I have a problem. (OCD or something...) Well, I don’t think it’s a problem. I like the way I live. So whilst not expecting all apartments I view to be at the upper levels of tidiness, I wasn’t quite expecting to see so many in the bottom quartile.

I walked into an apartment the other day and my jaw nearly hit the floor. It looked like they had taken everything out of all the drawers and cupboards and thrown it across the floor. I was trying so hard not to show my amusement; internally I fixed my face to neutral. Inside I was screaming: really? Really, you live like this? It was absolute chaos. But what fascinated me the most is that this couple were clearly so comfortable with their living ‘style’ they had no problem with showing me around their apartment in this state. Part of me thought good for you, not caring what people think. It doesn’t bother me that people live like this, I don’t think shame on you, I just think your home, your choice - just don’t ever make me live like that!

The other fun part of looking at apartments is all the lovely people I’m meeting: the young estate agent who is just starting out in her career and excited about life and all its wonderful opportunities; the Senior Partner of an estate agency who gave me a lift in his rather nice car (because someone like me shouldn’t walk!); the VERY hot estate agent. The apartments he showed me weren’t up to much but I saw them all anyway – obviously.

But in at number one is a fantastic young man called Ollie. He didn’t roll his eyes once when I took far too long with my tape measure and started talking to him about colour schemes; he offered me a lift on his scooter (no, I didn’t!); he walked me to the main road after a viewing as it was dark and I wasn’t sure where I was; and if there was any doubt about his first place he made sure of it by telling me he wished all his clients were like me.

And then there is the fun I have with the assumptions people make about me. I turn up at these appointments and as polite conversation is made they find out I don’t work. (My stock answer is ‘I’m not working at the moment...’ I don’t mention the fact that I haven’t worked for nearly seven years!) And I know how I look; I look like I am a well off lady who doesn’t have to work. And this amuses me no end because I may look this way, but in fact I have NO money. I then find myself saying things like ‘I’ll try and get my husband in to see it but his schedule is really hectic’ and the stereo type grows wings; I sound like a 'Stepford Wife'. And whilst I am constantly bemused at how I went from a career girl to a ‘housewife’, I smile. I smile because I am not on the sofa; and for now that’s good enough for me.

I think I have found our dream apartment (unfortunately not with HOT estate agent but maybe that’s a good thing, might have been a bit awkward with Husband in tow..); hoping to get Husband’s opinion on Saturday – if his schedule allows.

Although have just found out it might not actually come to anything - Husband’s work situation may be changing. Again. Seriously, I have started (and stopped) apartment hunting three times in the last 12 months. But hey who cares, look at all the fun I’m having.

Where are you getting you kicks?! Would love to hear your thoughts...x