Family Affairs and other matters

There is a rare breed of people who are clearly stronger and fitter than the rest of us. This was what I decided must be the case as I lay in bed this morning trying very hard not to feel sick.

This group are known collectively as “people who attend the World Travel Market”. I just don’t know how they do it. They have to be there for four whole days talking, networking, schmoosing, buying, selling, connecting, doing deals, introducing, drinking, eating, talking more, laughing, drinking, vaguely getting some sleep and going back for more the next day.

I was there for a paltry two half days and I am nearly dead. Exhausted. I have almost lost my voice, I have a headache and my feet are about to fall off. My problem is that I just don’t know how to pace myself. I peaked way too soon. One minute I was marvelling at the Malaysia stand at Jimmy Choo becoming their new Ambassador and talking to my safari friends and the next minute it was very, very late and I was talking very loudly and probably incoherently to anyone and everyone at one of the evening parties and trying (clearly not very hard) to make myself go home.

As I lay in bed this morning, debating how on earth I was going to get through my day my youngest son burst in and sang “Happy Birthday” at the top of his voice and I thought “oh no it’s my bloody birthday and I’ve got to do it all again”. Then as I was trying hard to feel human he said “and the menu for this morning is a choice of scrambled egg, omelette with ham and cheese or a boiled egg with soldiers”.

I came downstairs to find a table decorated for breakfast. A beautiful chocolate cake, presents, tea and my three lovely children. How lucky am I. My youngest had cake envy. He (obviously) made me a cake but the one on the table was made by my daughter. His is for tea apparently. He was a bit cross and couldn’t resist saying “it’s only Betty Crocker – get over it” when she looked really pleased with herself.

Anyway, the good news is that from now on I shall know better because yesterday I was an immature 44 year old. Today I am a very grown up – half way to 50 (holy shit) mature woman who will not peak too early ever again.