Night of a thousand poos

Firstly, let me tell you that I now know what it sounds like when lightening strikes a spot just a few yards from your flat. The answer is: extremely bloody pant-wettingly loud.

Secondly, yesterday morning heralded a two hour cleaning session to remove kitten poo from pretty much every surface of the flat. Bless their little furry socks. Rudy has diarrhoea and left a trail, in a similar vein to Hansel and Gretel, that showed exactly where he'd spent his evening. Then at some point, the kittens somehow shut themselves in the bathroom (i.e. far away from their litter tray) and...no, I'm not even going there. Suffice to say that tiled flooring and close proximity of a shower are truly a blessing.

Furry babies

Ahem. Ladies and Gentlemen: meet Rudy & Gertie. They are 11 weeks old brother & sister and are currently chasing each other like crazy around the flat!

They were donated to the Mayhew Animal Home when they were about 3 days old and have been there ever since. Now they've come home to Weybridge and I hope they'll be happy here next to the lake. I mean, what cat wouldn't be?

My sister is going to kill me. She reads this blog so: Sorry Jen. She's allergic to cats and didn't want me to get one, but then again she does live in Yorkshire...

They're gooooooorgeous.

Sleep is for wimps

Well, the rose-tinted spectacles I've been wearing for the past 3 years at work have finally slipped and I'm seeing the cold, grey, light of day peeping above the rims. It's been a bloody nightmare for the past month or so and I'm now officially exhausted. I mean, I'm not pretending that I've enjoyed every single day for the past 3 years (6 if you count my training) but overall I've still been able to say 'yes, I do really love my job!' with a smile on my face. Now, the smile is more of a grimace and the best I can manage is 'it's alright...'

Ah, it'll pass I'm sure. It's just that boring office politics happens in the midwifery world too and staff shortages are...well, I'm sure you only need to read the Daily Mail* to get an idea of how bad they are. Now I'm the boss (ha!) I'm being dumped on all the time and I'm fed up. I would like to have a weekend off. Or even a day off. No chance sister.

Oh stop your bleedin' moaning.

*Not that I'm suggesting for a second that you actually would

The question is: does he do children's parties?

Canvassing opinion

So here's the thing. I was chatting to a friend of mine today, Abby, on messenger (she's currently living in Koh Samui - yes, yes I know I have the most glamorous friends) and we got to talking about life frustrations an' all. You know: work; money; men. The usual. She suggested that I'm in a perfect position to go and do a bit of travelling. I mean, I'm single, own a nice flat which would rent easily and should cover the mortgage, have transferable skills. I countered with the fact that I'm actually a bit of a scaredy cat.

But the more I think about it, the more I think it might - just might - be a good idea. To be honest, I probably wouldn't go and work as a midwife abroad (too many variables in the job which, along with a high level of responsiblity, I'm not sure I fancy much) but as long as I could cover the costs of my flat here with rent (which I should be able to do - just - I reckon) and I could earn enough doing bar work or whatever to live on abroad, it might be do-able.

So. What do you think?
a) Should I do it (or at least look into it seriously)?
b) Where should I go?
c) What should I do when I get there?

Comments please...