Fresh starts, and all that

So, here we go again.

It all got a bit much, you see. Too many people I know knew my blog. People I didn't particularly want to read it. People like, say, my assistant at work. Hmm. I've been promoted, you see, and I now manage a team of two. So I feel I need to separate myself somehow from Ms _ at work who has to be all professional and set a good example and things, and remember how to be Surly Girl, who rants and whines and vents and actually helps her head to shut the fuck up, already, by spilling all my crap onto an unsuspecting interwebs.

And, I need the freedom to talk about anything without fear of retribution. About how work delights and horrifies me in equal measure these days. About my upcoming wedding. About the Other Half and my Middling Person, who turned eight (eight!!) on Sunday. And about all the shit I am still, at the ripe-old age of thirty-five, carrying aroud with me. About how I am waking the Other Half up at night with the sound of grinding teeth. About how my family can still instantly make me revert to a sad, lonely little girl. About how depsite the meds I am depressed. About how sometimes that really high bridge over the river seems inviting. Sometimes.

And, of course, about how much I adore David Hasselhoff and loathe loathe LOATHE the sound of Scott Mills. Really. He makes my teeth itch.

So.

Here we are again then. Whether anyone's along for the ride or not, I'm going back to basics.

Good lord.