You’ll find most offices will have signs in their kitchen saying “tidy up” with varying intonation & colourful languages.

Our current office space share the kitchen with 2-3 companies. So the building admin keeps on posting laminated & professionally written notices as above. Then one time I saw a sign that made do a double-take (picture to follow), it says: “STOP USING MY STARBUCKS MUG!” (excuse me but I have this strange feeling I mentioned this before, deja vu?)

It was handwritten & I could feel the “irritated” tone screaming at me while reading it. Not guilty, sorry. Why bring a personal mug anyhow when the kitchen is communal? You’re asking for trouble.

Then we received an email from the Building Admin this morning that says “polite notice – milk”… huh?

The email says…

“Unfortunately we had to move to another provision for the milk due to the fact that numerous people were using the milk for their breakfasts and not for teas and coffees. The milk we provide is on the understanding that this is used for teas and coffees only and this has been abused to such a point that we moved to the milk jiggers.”

Honestly, I can’t imagine writing that email with a straight face. But then I actually saw a guy using those “milk jiggers” to fill a cereal bowl! He must have used at least 10 of them in one go when he could have nipped out & bought a pint for less than a £1.

I’ve always come across magazine articles about singletons being left behind as all their friends succumbed to the ball-and-chain married life. They voice varying opinions about not wanting kids, or envying stable relationships, or wanting to “settle” but not liking the idea of a marriage certificate, etc etc.

How about happily married folks who often look back and sigh?

Well, sometimes I do.

I enjoyed my single life and independence so much, that now and again I find myself, thinking what it would have been like to stay single all these years.

A singleton friend from America stayed with us recently. I was really looking forward to it as much as she did. It was her 3rd time over & she was going to hook up with some “bloke” she met last time she was here. We booked her post-bday bash and we planned a night-out. Hubby volunteered to stay with pogiBoy (long story).

The eve of my FIRST proper nightout in London, I realised a number of things:

One, I don’t have anything to wear. All my clothes were office-wear and those that aren’t, aren’t “glam” enough. Que horror. I can’t turn up at a nightclub in my jumper!

Two, I have self-imposed curfew. I tried my best, but my involuntary reflex was to keep checking my watch and my phone. Every hour I “touched base” with hubby to confirm where we were.

Three, when the suggestion came up to move to the party to a house somewhere along the Docklands, I can’t join them. I found myself actually telling my friend “it’s not my scene” anymore. I wouldn’t belong in a singleton’s party without my hubby. The atmosphere will not be the same for me.

Coming home I told hubby that I’d love to accompany my friend on her Europe trips. But I know she will not enjoy it as much as I would. I’d have to bring pogiBoy with me or the entire family, and being single once I know that’s not “her scene” either.

When you’re single and adventurous you don’t want to be lumbered with a child. It’s going to cramp your style if you’re on the prowl. And how is she supposed to see the night-life in area if we turn around and tell her she’d have to go on her own or that we can go but only for 2-hours?

I am finally enjoying my married-with-a-kid life in London. I have managed to attend drink-do with my current officemates. I thought it’s not far-fetched to think I can start going on night-outs. The logistics are hazy but I thought I could invite a few kindred spirit, perhaps hubby and I can book a trusted nanny…

It really just hit me how different my life is now.