Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans

I had a whole post written in my head last night. Then I fell asleep. Then I woke up. Then distractions started happening.

Woken to the sound of an empty wine bottle shattering in the kitchen. That was the cats. Broken glass, right to the furthest corner. It was the wine bottle I’d been saving for the Open House. The idea was to re-fill it with tap-water (I mean, who’s to know, inside green glass?) and leave it hanging about casually on the worktop like a kind of lifestyle statement. You too could afford bottles of wine, fine cuisine in this kitchen… sunlit interludes on the patio…

Then Little Arf peeing on my hot water bottle. No point in moving a tomcat once he starts peeing – it only makes the situation worse. You just have to reach for the kitchen roll and wait. And wait. And wait. How can one cat even contain that much liquid?

Then an unintelligible answerphone message from Social Services about some appalling Summit Meeting at Council Headquarters re my mother. This will probably be the one where we have to make a The Decision on her behalf about residential care. She is threatening to run away and drown herself rather than go into a home.

Time wasted trying to find out who had called and why then sitting in several long queues with chill-out music being played at me, before being put through to the wrong person. The right person still hasn’t called me back.

An email from my sister telling me she was into the second day of her almost-weekly migraine, and that the mystery meeting was on Friday morning. So the call-back isn’t that important. Printing off a street-map of that town and working out how to get to a distant and unfamiliar building for 10 a.m using a mix of car, train and shanks’ pony.

A phone call to my phone/broadband provider asking them to reinstate now the free answerphone service they had mistakenly disconnected two days ago and promised to reinstate. More sighing and chill-out music.

Then a silly letter from my bank saying they had been unable to action cancellation of two direct debits because they had been unable to locate one of them.

Then a brief trip to the farm shop to buy vegetables. I’ve got to the stage where I dread leaving the house, especially in winter. The temperature’s dropping and in the borders of Scotland (according to the young man at the phone/ broadband call centre) snow is already falling. Going outside the house nowadays is like venturing into an alien spaceship and, when you take off your helmet, not being quite sure the air will be breathable.

I went all the same, because I don’t want to be dealing with agoraphobia on top of everything else, and I’ve decided to live on hotpot from now on. Healthier than porridge and toast. The staff were standing around in wellies and green fleeces, trying to warm their hands on giant mugs of coffee. Not many customers.

One vegetarian hotpot lasts three days. You eat one portion and put the other two in dishes with saucers over the top, in the fridge (saves on Clingfilm). The other two portions, you microwave. No two hotpots are the same, because you can put almost anything in. Vegetables – plus whatever you happen to have left in the cupboard. I even tried brussels sprouts once. That didn’t work. £3 something for vegetables + 3 store cupboard tins = 3 days’ food.

Stopped off at the village shop for tinned soup and a newspaper (in case there were any jobs – there weren’t). The shop seem to have been taken over by another Indian family. Everything’s been moved about on the shelves. Took ages to find the soup. Was served by a man with a single, disastrous, long tooth on the left-hand side of his mouth. No other visible teeth. Surely – surely – false teeth or no teeth at all would be better than that old brown snaggle, that fang

Then Stargate Universe – annoyingly rescheduled from 8pm to 11am weekdays, interrupted by quarrelling cats, purring cats, yoghurt, coffee, washing up – you name it.

Then a call to the estate agent to find out if anyone was interested in my house, at all. Got the girl in the office, who was reassuring in a Calm Down, Dear sort of way.

This was the day I was going to go out for a healthy walk and do some research and make a plan for some sort of e-book. Some sort of money-generating e-book. Fat chance, of course, but that was the plan, in the absence 0f any other ideas.

And now it’s 20 to 2…


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