HOLY MOLY

So this week I have a deadline in a case that I am working on (peripherally, but still working on), and so I've been working until midnight.  In the mornings, I don't feel so great, especially when Lulu starts warbling for her mama, but by about 4pm, I feel AWESOME.  What is wrong with me?  And how come I don't do this all the time? I would love to sleep four or five hours a night!  Think of all the novels I could read (or all the time I could waste reading Mormon mommy blogs, I'll be honest, or, shop online at j crew which we don't have here and which I miss).

We started the week with a trip to the doctor during which it was confirmed that Tommy has eczema (but a sort of weird kind that's somewhat confusable with ringworm) as well as "slapped-cheek" virus.  Luckily, you can go to school once you have the red cheeks because that's when the virus isn't contagious anymore.  It's a strange little world, isn't it, when a kid can look like he is on his deathbed but he's perfectly fine to go to school, but when he's actually infecting all the other little people, he looks a-okay, fit as a fiddle. You'd think that biologically we would be better-designed -- physical warnings of contagiousness (is that a word?) seem sensible to me.  His cheeks have relaxed a bit, so I'm just waiting for Lulu's to flare up.  I wish I'd taken a photo of Tommy to show you.  I also wish I'd taken a movie of myself talking to the doctor.  "I know I'm the kind of parent you hate, but I've spent a lot of time online and I'm fairly certain he has both eczema and the slapped-cheek virus.  The exzema does seem to be in strange patches, and it's odd that it's on his torso, but listen, couldn't it be ..."  She was really very nice to me (mostly because we are on the private track with the pediatrician and we give them a lot of money every time we go (ultimately Aetna pays, but Dr. Wood doesn't know that), and the eczema is much improved thanks to her treatment plan (which I had no role in developing; I stick to diagnosis -- next stop, medical school!).

Today someone said to me, "oh, peaks and troughs, peaks and troughs."  And I thought to myself:  that's right, self, you're in England, where people don't say things quite right.  The other very English thing that has been consuming my idle thoughts (limited currently by expert reports, but still sneaking in there) are the two Christmas parties I'll be attending at work.  One of them is just with my department, and the other is the entire office.  Neither involve a "plus one" which means I'm on my own unless I miss Eli so much I have to call him which is likely but which I won't be admitting on my blog.  (Although I just did.)

The first one is on a Wednesday evening.  It begins at six and includes a three course dinner, and the bar closes at two am.  This is problematic in many ways:  are we expected to come to work the next Thursday? The party was publicized as giving us a day to recover before the office-wide party the following Friday.  Does that mean we stay home after going to bed past two on a Wednesday? Also, who will I talk to for EIGHT HOURS?  The most worrying part, though, is that it everyone is expected to get very, very drunk.  It is not at all frowned upon in this country to get drunk in front of your coworkers and bosses.  In fact, it is encouraged.  Is that not a bit odd?  To date, I've dealt with this situation by having a glass of wine and then explaining that I need to get home to my children (who are of course already in bed).  But you know, for me to get very very drunk involves, oh, three glasses of wine.  

The second party is on a Friday evening (not to sound American, but this seems a much more sensible evening for a party).  It also has a three course dinner, and lots of drinking, but it offers much, much more.  Its theme, and you will think I'm joking because I certainly thought our email system had been hacked when I opened the invitation, is:  "Unleash Your Inner Rock God."  That's right, friends, my office Christmas party has karaoke.  A full report will be published on this blog on Saturday, December 17th.  I promise. I would promise videos but I think that would be in bad taste (and frowned upon if it were discovered by my officemates; a far worse offense than, say, getting wasted in front of your co-workers).

You can see why my life is overwhelming right now, with all I've got to think about.  And I haven't even touched on expert reports, perhaps because you can't work for 12 hours on them and then come home and want to write about them while you should be sleeping.  

Good night!


(And no, no dead mice here.  AAAAAAAAH!)