Weaning. Such a funny word.
So in just over a week I’m leaving the dreary storm-battered land of In-ger-land to live and work in Mexico. For a year. Some days it feels like a big deal, some days it doesn’t at all. I’m sure there are lots of serious and sensible things I ought to be doing in preparation, but for the minute there seem to be only two important factors to consider: missing tea and missing my cat.
Twinings English Breakfast is the diuretic equivalent of a soundtrack to my life. It’s been there through good times, dark times, hard times, fun times, bored times and busy times, lonely times and social times, and quite honestly I’m dreading living without it. So this is my first weaning programme: drink less tea. There is simply nothing as glorious as a warm milky brew (I don’t care what you say, you’re wrong), therefore, the weaning programme must commence tomorrow. I don’t want to (won’t cope to) go cold turkey so I’m going to cut down to one cup every hour as opposed to every half hour. And upon my arrival in Mexico, I intend to replace my love of tea with a love of tequila.
Second weaning programme: cut affection from pet cat. It’s only fair…on me. I totally sympathise with people who don’t like my cat, but she’s not (quite) as evil as she looks. Named Darcey after Darcey Bussell because of her little white ballet shoes, aka paws, she’s the complete personification of every anti-cat joke ever to adorn a tea towel. She’s not that nice, and she’s not that friendly, but she is incredibly fluffy. After all, isn’t that what pets are for? If it isn’t fluffy, I just don’t get the point. Anyway, enough of the description, you either like cats or you don’t, the point is, she won’t even remember me. The more I love her, the more she hates me (who says cats aren’t clever?) so maybe my premature detachment will be best for the both of us. From tomorrow, the aloofness/aloftity/aloofaying is mutual. On my return from Mexico we can start afresh, she might even fall in love with me…
So there you go – a life without tea or the fluffy sheep-cat, that’s about as far as my thoughts about moving abroad have gotten so far. Oh and also, “yippee, I’m going to Mexico!”.
P.S. I wrote the whole of this with the spelling ‘ween’ before checking it. I’m no writer, please forgive and feel free to laugh at my expense, you’ll find no pretence here.