No this isn’t the name of a funky new bar in London, it’s a reference to my attire in my lovely new office. As part of the move to the country, the plan is to set up my own business, which I can run from home (I want to be one of those successful ladies you see featured in Country Living magazine that have a house in the country, own an old Land Rover, pair of posh wellies and a thriving business they have built up from their shed – I can dream!).
Luckily our new house came with outbuildings, one of which is an office. Mr G regularly works from home and before he could step foot in the office, I staked my claim on it and kitted it out with bunting on the beams, pretty stationery, beautiful Susie Watson fabric blinds (I chose the lovely Pale Rose Cambridge Stripe), country style peg shelves and girlie knick-knacks. I’ve even painted the dark green door to a lovely shade of sage green (making it much more on brand with my business) and hung a heart shaped wreath on the outside. Basically if I were a cat I’d have well and truly marked my territory.
I’m not being mean; we also have a mahoosive (the word ‘huge’ doesn’t make it sound big enough) workshop, which G can play in, so he surely doesn’t need MY office as well!
I have a lovely view of the garden from the office window, great for all of that daydreaming. Sorry, creative thinking! I even have a mini drinks fridge, which is currently full of tiny cans of tonic (Note to self – must take gin over there at some point) and those little bottles of so-called ‘healthy’ fruit drinks for kids. OK confession time, I only keep these for when other people’s kids come to play as they come with a push down top so no spillages. Come on, I’m surely not the only Mum who does this…
The only downside to MY lovely office is the random temperature throughout the day. In the morning it’s flipping freezing. Yes I may suffer from Raynauds (rubbish circulation, so basically if its less than 25 degrees my body shuts down), but it’s nippy in that office. So on go the many layers of clothing until I resemble the Michelin man or when Joey from Friends wears all of Chandler’s clothes. I also have a hot water bottle, scarf and last, but not least my lovely cosy Uggs.
I must look ridiculous waddling (not easy to walk in that many layers) across to the office but I don’t care, as I know I’ll be warm, (and nobody can see me). However, by the afternoon the office mysteriously heats up all on it’s own. It seems to want to mimic the working conditions of a sweat-shop. Maybe it’s karma for me claiming the office in the same way sunbeds on holiday are claimed by beach towels being placed on them at some ungodly hour in the morning?
So one by one the layers come off, and I’m sat there wishing I were in my bikini and wondering how many calories I’m burning off by just sweating whilst I design. Well a girl can hope…