even my jackboots are against me today

Woo, night brought another couple of inches of snow! For some reason it doesn’t seem to be getting any thicker out there, but it is still a fluffy white wonderland rather than an icerink of Sudden Death, and that is what matters. Now, if this could just keep up till, ooh, March, and then all melt at once while I take a couple of days leave, that will be Splendid. I suspect for folks with cars, it’s a different story, but with the pristine bits powdery, the trodden bits like pastry when you’ve rubbed enough butter into the flour, and the roads like thick demerara sugar, fresh snow is good news for a humble pedestrian like myself.

Except, for these new boots. They have Grip! I was boasting to everyone yesterday. (And, They were on sale for sixteen quid down from seventy!) And do they ever have grip. They have a grip like that of Lenny in Of Mice And Men, which proved fatal to everything small and warm and mammalian that he tried to cherish. My ankles currently look like a rather successful lynch-mob’s been at them, and though neither are the same size any more, they’re not the size they were on Sunday, either. Once more, my choice of outfit injures me, and that’s the second time this month.

Still, it was them again or Fall Down, so I stuck them back on and strode forth into the wilderness with the expression of one for whom every single step is going to be something of a trial. Good thing nobody else was around this morning.

Concentrating on the beauty of the world will help! I thought desperately, and since there was rather a lot of it about, it did rather. It is cold enough today that the snow has stayed on the branches, so the world is a cross-hatched intricacy of black and white, with the colours of the sunrise above it, the exact same shade as the streetlights. Finally, the streetlights are pretty! And as I limped determinedly onward, the sky faded to the most delicate lilac and the streetlights winked out and I was feeling pretty damn intrepid by the time I got to work. On time and everything.

It was a bit of an anti-climax to discover I actually have to do some work after all that effort. Especially since it turns out I am the only person stupid enough to set off extra early – everyone else seems to be leaving at the same time as normal and if they make it, well, that’s a plus. Damn. Once again, my levels of commitment are totally out of proportion to my levels of employment.

But we got an email saying we could all leave early again, yay!

The walk home was even more challenging. And by this time I was feeling a bit depressed by my lack of progress with the sums. I’ve been over them several times now, and damned if my ability to do this stuff isn’t actively decreasing. I must break this, and soon, before I start to lose the ability to do the maths I already got right.

Instead, I shovelled snow from the path so my neighbours have, ooh, twenty feet where they (probably) won’t fall down, took out the ingredients for peapod wine and raspberry wine so they can defrost, and moved everything that’s left into a single freezer. There, my electricity costs probably just halved. God. What I should have spent the evening doing is writing an elaborate email to my tutor, plus anyone else I can get hold of, using diagrams and lots of exclamation marks to describe my problems, but I’m terrified of looking like an idiot who can’t hack it. No wait, I’m terrified of revealing I’m an idiot who can’t hack it.

(For the purposes of this ‘ere Chronicle of Nonsense, the assumption that I’m an idiot who can’t hack it is the default setting, because having a buffoon for a central character helps make Humour. So I’ve heard.)

But even on the south side of the flat, it’s too cold to write legibly – mainly due to my fear of more sums in the form of stonking gas bills – so I ended up knitting and watching a summary of the Peloponnesian War. Until it got so cold I could barely handle the knitting needles, anyway.

This is not going to be such a productive week, methinks. Which is a shame, because at work, with free heating in the office and nobody to blether to, I’m going great guns!


About beshemoth

Mainly making art, making wine, writing and gardening. Having a life only as the above allows.
This entry was posted in all the small things, idiotic injuries, the fear of all sums, weather-dependent lifestyle. Bookmark the permalink.

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