Not enough hours in the day

Like the title says, sometimes there just aren't enough hours in the day.

So, bearing this in mind, starting a blog seemed like the most sensible thing to do.

Let me start from the beginning. Well, not the very beginning. That would be a long and arduous task and I think I'll leave that sort of thing to the likes of Brian Cox. Let me start from the beginning of this year.

I was at a party. A timer was counting down to midnight. We stood together in age old ritual and, in unison, counted down to the strike of midnight. Big Ben chimed, fireworks erupted in brilliant technicolour explosions, and, hands clasped, we attempted to sing Auld Lang Syne. "Should auld acquaintance be forgot, ner, ner, ner, ne ner ner neeerrr!" We clinked glasses and kissed, and toasted the new year. And what a year this one is lined up to be.

Firstly, I'm getting married. April 14th, the day I acquire a husband (Mr. C) and I become someone's wife (Mrs.C). Now there's an interesting thought... What sort of wife will I be? I wonder if there's a moment of magic when I say 'I do' and I'll transform into the perfect 1950s housewife, complete with twin-set and a secret recipe for scones. But before all of that there's the wedding arrangements. I naively thought it couldn't possibly be that difficult. How wrong I was.

Secondly, I'll turn thirty this year. The big 3 - 0. Three decades done and dusted, and the start of my fourth. Where did that time go? What did I do with it? I've got quite a lot of DVDs and a dodgy knee from running. I guess that's something. More on this another time.

Thirdly, I've started my PhD. It's been a long-held ambition of mine to be a doctor, although I'd always fantastized about the white coat and stethoscope, this will have to do. I fear I'm *ahem* too old now to go back to university and start again. By the time I'd have qualified and be safe enough to be let loose on the unsuspecting public I'd only have twenty years or so in me before I could collect my pension. Now that is a scary thought. So a PhD it is. Three years of reading and researching and being erudite and academic. Well, in theory...

Fourthly (I shouldn't have started numbering things...), Mr. C and I are moving house. We collect the keys next week, and can move in any time after that. This all made perfect sense when I was going to be working Oop North (further Oop North than our current location that is), but now it's just a 25 mile round trip for both of us. Hmm. Even so, it's very exciting! The first place that will be ours. We can make it into a home. I've already got my eye on a novelty Marmite teapot that will be just perfect. Err... I think the housewife transformation has already begun...

Fifthly (do people even say fifthly?), I'm getting a car! My own little brom broom! Yes, yes, I know, nearly 30 years old and never had her own car, but I've never really needed one before. My lovely Dad has always let me use his little red Rover Metro, and I'm quite happy to walk, so why buy a car? I could also claim it was an environmentally conscious decision, but that wouldn't be entirely true. I couldn't afford it. Not that I can now - have you seen how much car insurance costs?! And strangely enough, the quote goes up if I say I'm married. Do insurers assume married drivers are predisposed to nagging at the wheel, thereby being more liable to accidents? Your guess is as good as mine.

Sixthly (now I'm certain I've never heard 'sixthly' before) - there isn't actually a sixthly. Not that's worth mentioning now. And quite frankly, firstly to fifthly is quite enough to be getting on with.

So there it is. 2012, my year of everything happening at once. How will it unfold? Well, I hope. Guess I'll just have to wait and see.