Due to my grousing in public about my cactus’ (probable) demise, the Lady of Lovely Hats contacted me to invite me to a mystery shopping mission in a nearby pub. Awwww! How sweet and generous! And over something so trivial! (I am still a bit upset about it, my bad). So on Tuesday, I nipped out of work on time for once. Not only was this important because I had to pile down the Allittlement before pubtime, but also because it turns out I am allergic to my favourite suit.
Well okay, I have suspected this for some time, but have gotten around it by wearing thermals so it can’t touch me. However, it is now Officially Summer, as proved by the weather warming up remarkably right after the east coast all stopped running around in nothing but blue paint, and I am now wearing a rather unflattering rash.
So I got into jeans as fast as possible, belted down the Allittlement to quickly whip the corrugated iron into a fence and plant out me cucumbers, and discovered that far from hulking out, I have become enfeebled. I could barely lift a piece of corrugated iron at all, and actually could not lift a gross of litres of compost out of the shed that I clearly put in the shed last year. Woe, it is the beginning of the end.
(Or maybe it’s karmic payback because I neglected to get in yellow flowers as at least a sop to the deities of Beltane. Who may or may not like yellow flowers, but when I buy them some, they tend to vanish on the way home. I am thus guessing: yes?)
Still, the only thing I smashed flat by dropping the compost was my new watering can, rather than the greenhouse itself, so there is that. And the lovely lassie with the end plot gave me a vast bunch of kale, and the offer of a mint plant and a rhubarb heart, while I racked my brains for something to offer in return. Chilli peppers, probably; I think this year’s potato harvest got bollixed by the late frosts.
The nettles in the wildlife plot next door, however – which is where most of my weeds come through the fence from, hence the corrugated iron ‘perimeter’ – are doing just fine and I now have a brand new nettle rash all over the original rash. Either that or bubonic plague, which this strongly resembles.
I had barely time to plant more seeds before pub time, hurrah, so the Lady of Lovely Hats drove me off for a wee glass and talked at vast speed about why there is no time for anything, ever, and oh god, relatives incoming, awkward conversations alert.
(For it turns out my father is still in the area, and wants to meet up next weekend too. Um. Er. See, while I appreciate the sentiment, I have my gums ripped open and a wisdom tooth being pulled on Thursday, under local anaesthetic, and no sick time Or Else I Get A Disciplinary, so I should probably try and avoid stress at the weekend – and also, I have these sodding maths assignments and the chillies to pot out and a mate’s birthday and the Wrastling and the Bossman to feed and water three times a day and a fence to build! Not being funny, but I kinda feel I’ve spent last weekend doing what Everyone Else Wants To Do already? And I don’t mind, per se, but the stuff I need to get done is piling up like anything!)
And that sort of sentiment is why I am horrible and I have no friends. Fair enough.
Anyway. By the time I got home, the powers of automation meant I had scored four replacement suits on ebay for the bonus price of under forty quid, inc. p&p. And hopefully I will not be allergic to some of them! (And I am now really broke. I must hit my wee bro up for that money he owes me.)
And also, did I not get given unexpected kale? With flowers on? Yellow flowers? Perhaps I am Forgiven!
Or being set up for something, one of the two.
Well, on Wednesday, it was my turn to hand out plants, for it be Newbie’s birthday, and my Colleague of Skull Scarves invited me down the pub as well, no less, and paid for my dinner and everything, awww. Okay, first I had to slip in a bit more overtime (woe) to get everything prepped for Hellday, shh, do not tell the boss.
And while this was not a Useful use of my time, it was a good chance to catch up, for I am too busy for conversation at work now! And it is the last dinner I may have in a while, if this tooth-extraction things goes tits up.
Yes, I feel guilty for socialising during the week, go figure.
So we had a pleasant glass of wine, while the time drifted past, and another while the time crawled (in a very agreeable way)! We agreed it was a miracle that it was only seven o’clock yet it felt like we’d been there all night, so we had plenty of time for another, got the Husband of Kit Cars to join us (the Son of Cheekiness is at summer camp for a whole week and their pad is mysteriously quiet and lonely, awww) and suddenly it was ten to ten, and I should be in bed, what the hell?
Thank god the Husband of Kit Cars brought the car, free lift home, woo! And not from a stranger, this time!
And so another day passed where I did nothing, but I enjoyed it, dammit! Plus, I’m starting to get really wound up about this tooth op tomorrow!
An important point to note: during the course of tonight’s conversation, I realised just how amazingly rubbish I am at not sweating the small stuff. I feel I should, by this age, be gliding along serenely like a big ole swan, taking everything in my stride, and instead I am practically flying off the handle at every little thing.
Plus, I still look like I have bubonic plague from the waist down. Thank god it’s me mouth they’ll be inspecting tomorrow!