Boobed Already

So after all my grand plans of writing regularly on my blog, it’s taken me nearly two weeks to return to it.  I suspect now, that my posts may be quite sporadic…

However, since leaving the Beeb on the 15th March, I don’t really know where the time has gone.

Most of it has been spent in bed as I have had a chest infection now for two weeks.  I seem to get them all the time now and they will literally be the death of me.  My darling dad died of asthma and bronchitis, and I’m pretty certain I’ll go the same way!!  As I get fatter and lazier, I know it’s getting worse.  I have a bad chest

Not to look at, mind.  I’m probably best known for two things – my laugh and my ….boobs !!   They seem to be appreciated by the opposite sex (even my gay friends) and actually by some of my own fair sex who think I “wear them well” !!

Considering my age, I suppose they look OK in my specially fitted, almost armoured scaffolding which pass as bras, but they are not so great hanging loose.  I’ll never forget a classic description in “Desperate Housewives” a few years ago, when Lynn said once you’ve had kids, they look more like a couple of balloons that you find behind the sofa a few days after the party!!!

When I was at school, I had nothing. Zilch. Flat as a pancake. In the sixth form, I was actually known as “Flatty” which distressed me no end. They finally arrived in my early twenties and I think I had the perfect figure then for a while.

They are much bigger now than when I first got married, probably because I had our second child so soon after the first. I was still breast-feeding when I got pregnant again so they never had a chance to go down. They have got bigger whenever I have put on weight and refused to go down when I’ve lost a few pounds.

When my son was about two, I decided I really ought to get properly fitted for a bra and I found out that instead of being the average 34C, I was in fact….well, no need to reveal that sort of thing!!!  But I bought a few bras in my new correct LARGE size and when I got them home, the boy pulled one out of the bag and placed it on his head…and it fitted, like a little lace hat! Each of my boobs were/are the size of a toddler’s head! How horrific is that!!

See now, this post wasn’t meant to be about bosoms! But once I started writing, that’s what came out. I think I can see now how this blog is going to turn out……

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Starting Out

I can’t believe I have decided to write a blog.  It’s so not me!   Though I suspect it will become me, very quickly!

In 1983, I started a temporary job at the BBC and stayed …..for thirty years !  Friday 15th March 2013 was my final working day there, and now I am out in the big wide world, a bit confused and not quite sure what to do or where to turn next. 

That’s why I thought a blog would be a good idea. 

There are three key reasons really.  The main one I suppose is that I genuinely don’t know what will happen to me now that I have left the Beeb, and so I thought I would use this blog to record how I move on to whatever life holds for me next.  It may be uplifting as I find something new and exciting to challenge me or it may be quite depressing as I could find that actually I’m not suited to anything and there are just no jobs out there…or worse, that I’m just considered too old, by potential employers. (Note to self:   must do something about the greying hair !) 

Secondly, I have lots of ideas about what I really want to do and one of those involves writing.  I have two and a half books floating around in my head and the start of a sitcom.  I’m hoping that writing regularly will be more than just therapy but a good habit to get into which will hopefully help me get all that stuff out of my head and onto paper. 

And finally, I thought it would be a good excuse to start an online journal. I always used to keep a hand-written diary but it’s been very difficult in recent years to keep anything hidden in a house with two young adults, a husband and a mother and so I got out of the habit.  Not that putting it online for the world to see will mean I can write out my deepest, darkest feelings but it is still a good outlet. I’m a strong believer that the hand is an extension of the heart and that when you start writing, you can express more honestly how you feel.  Writing regularly can be a form of therapy but have no worries, I promise to censor what I actually publish !

Of course, it also means I won’t have to write one of those Christmas round-robin letters which I would ineveitably fill with heavily exaggerated updates on my high-achieving children and all the exotic holidays I’ve had.  Now I can simply refer everyone to my wonderfully, witty blog!

In truth, I have no idea what I will write about and suspect it will broaden out to a lot more than just progress on my career.  Or it could be that I think better of the whole thing and may never publish another post again. 

Let’s see how it goes …….