the worst thing about medical leave is……dealing with the pain, the pills, the discomfort, the nausea, the scars, calls from our insurance company (did they not get the memo that we had our Throat Slit and can’t return calls easily? clearly not)…..
the best thing about medical leave (apart from enforced naps post-nausea post-pills) is TIME.
time to read.
the sort of time to read that we’ve not had in (*has to think hard for a second*) years. since university, in England, that thing called “reading week” (and even then we rarely got to read what we really wanted to read).
so today (apart from the usual list at the top of the page) we read AN ENTIRE NOVEL.
here’s what we devoured:
our absolutely favorite/favourite/chortle-worthy (almost made the feeling of internal bruising and swelling and throat scars pulling apart terror ok ;-) lines are unprintable for reasons that readers of the book will understand – as the bits we resonated with (as we sort of, ahem, chose not to have children this lifetime for various reasons) are about – how can we put this? gender-challenges-in-the-workplace. there, that should do it. and considering we have to go back to our Day Job at the end of september, we might need to be a bit more prudent than we’d like to be.
but here’s one that we can write here:
over the PA comes the voice of the pilot, one of those chummy call-me-Pete types. Heart sinks. At moments like this do not want pilot to be called Pete. Urgently want pilot to be chap named Roger Carter from Weybridge, Wing Commander, Battle of Britain type, mistress in Agadir, good friend of Raymond Baxter from Tomorrow’s World.
oh, damn it, here’s one we loved (risky, risky, team gloria):
When I first arrived as a trainee in the City, I assumed that meetings were for making decisions; it took a few weeks to figure out that they were arenas of display, the Square Mile equivalent of those gorillas grooming sessions you see on wildlife programs.
(shared this one with mC who took us for a little stroll to get some air early and we snorted so hard we had to stop walking)
and oh! the way Allison just throws away tiny lines that hit like darts to the soul…
But happy childhoods are no bloody good for drive and success; misery and rejection and standing in the rain at bus stops are the fuel for those.
we completely identify as the Americans say. #sigh.
why, of course:
Kirsty and Simon Bing are architect friends of Richard. The same age as us, they have no children but only one exquisite gray-blue cat that drifts like smoke through the Japanese porcelain in their Clerkenwell loft.
the plots twists are brilliant, characterization/character-development is witty and poignant and you really want to find out what happens next (which is why we read it between naps, and OW pain moments and the medication schedule on the fridge – yeah, we’re Type A about illness – of course there’s a Plan on the Fridge).
we also have a confession to make about Allison Pearson (if you’ve been with team gloria since we were on that last round-trip for the Day Job to Madrid-Milan-Paris-London you might remember this post: (where we talk about being on the same newspaper as the Author many moons ago, before we moved to America and became a suit and then got tumours/tumors and became team gloria) and how we’d like to be the fourth female journalist to write a hit book/column/movie from those days on City Road (before they moved us all into the bunkers of Canary Wharf before they even built a bloody Tesco Metro). anyway, that bit of our story, that coincides with Allison (we were a minnow, not sure we ever spoke to one another) and her time there is here.
and here’s the most important bit – the movie has (according to reports) A DIFFERENT ENDING. so read the novel – before the movie opens – so you can be one of those people who say “Oh, interesting treatment of the original text”.*
*if you live in NYC, SF, LA, Seattle, London, Manchester, Edinburgh, Berlin or Paris (you’ll thank us, the rest of the world probably will just enjoy the movie, but you need to hold your head up high missy in the wine bar after with the ladies. no problem, happy to provide a service)
we ought to sleep now.
but there are so many delicious books waiting to be read.
tomorrow is another day.
such a good line. really ought to be in a film.