A Love Letter From The Olden Days

It's the day before d leaves. That's meant lots of packing, and a meet-up for a meal in Romford, with some of her old workmates who've become pals. Yuen and Matt, Caroline and Russell, Leon and Niki (with their daughter Sadie and friend), plus Paige the newbie.
Good fun at an Italian restuarant for several hours. We talked about all sorts of things, but mainly, and wonderfully, about d. As most of the people around the table had worked with her at some point, it was a love letter from various points of the past, to the present, with happy wishes for the future.

I didn't exactly fall off the Disappearing wagon (resisted the lure of the desserts, despite the frankly whorish concoctions on offer). But in some ways, today was like a love letter from the olden days in a culinary sense too - ate potato skins and pizza, with gusto and abandon as we talked and laughed and remembered all the wonders that make up my wife. I figure it's pointless fretting about this right now - I have next week free from the tyranny of bathroom scales, in which to undo any damage of an Ordinary Day, and hopefully even make some progress on that Early Resolution.

It was interesting, and somehow I felt privileged, to see her through some other eyes today - highly recommend it as an exercise, by the way - see someone you love through the eyes of other people they've impressed. You'll see things you always suspected, shining brightly through in shards of mirror you've never possessed. And it'll make you even more grateful, and wondering, that they're in your life at all.

Yuen looked fabulous, and somehow radiant, and smiley as she always does. Matt (a fellow Who fan), talked about having an inside source that mentioned Ice Warriors coming in Season Seven (and you probably heard it here first. And didn't give a toss...). Caroline joked about coming to terms with 'being the new d' - she took over d's job as of last week. Russell told me I could probably stop being diabetic if I got my weight down to about eleven stone (Hello - welcome to the party, man!), and mentioned that maybe, some time in the future, we'd move again (Shame - I quite liked him up until that point...). Niki told us tales from her work, which is fascinating, but which I'm not going to share here on the grounds that they're her tales, not mine. Leon, I think it's fair to say, did his level best to embarrass the bejeesus out of his daughter and her pal (Sterling work, good man!). And Paige, bless her, who was perhaps ironically the last to arrive, turned up at a vital moment and saved the day with her mathematical skill and the calculator on her phone. Oh and while I think about it, Caroline also shared with us the pure joy of a website called www.deathclock.com. Go ahead, go there, I dare ya - it'll scare the bejeesus out of you. That wasn't so much a love letter from the olden days as a bitchslap from the future - according to 'normal' estimates, I'm due to die on August 3rd 2042, at the age of almost-but-not-quite 71. d on the other hand is scheduled to pop off the planet on March 19th 2039. I reckon if I have to piss about on the planet for three years in her absence, I'll probably die of sheer boredom anyhow, but yyyyeah...thanks for that one Caroline...

One cute little side effect of looking on that site though is that I've just had to calculate my BMI again. And apparently I'm now on the Very Overweight/Obese border. I know, not exactly party time perhaps, but as I mentioned riiiiight back at the start of this thing, I was originally in the Holy Fuck, How Are You Still Walking Around, You Fat Fuck? category, so I've come through the wilds of morbid obesity, through the flatlands of ordinary obesity, and now am flirting in the forests of just being very overweight. So, that's worth a miniature awoohoo all on its own.

We said fairly emotional farewells to the gang, promising to keep in touch, and then we came home and worked our asses off. Then we stopped, and I wrote this while watching How To Train Your Dragon...(shrugs)...just Because...And now it's 10.50, which means there are just about eight hours left before the men come to take my girl Home. And soooooooo much still left to do. So this is me, buggering off to Do Some Of It, and then hold my honey till the morning dark. Love letters from the olden days are all very well, but sometimes, all you have is right this minute, and you have to make the most of it.

Ni-night.

PS - Almost forgot to say, Caroline, please send the link for this to Leon?  Thanks! t