Dear Sophisticated Ladies
It is hardly unusual for me to feel a tad under par; it is indeed par for the course when one of ones special powers is the diagnosis of a long-term incurable illness, something I choose not to dwell on. However yesterday afternoon was rather more, shall we say, pronounced. The feeling a being a rag doll, or perhaps a blow up doll with a puncture, descended. (Now there is something to conjure with, a blow up doll with a puncture, perhaps Ms Summers has a solution on her website?) Annoyingly I had to admit defeat and pull out of a meeting; thankfully one of my ‘Big Society’ voluntary jobs rather than a paying client. By 6 pm I had taken to my bed with my notebook computer, my kindle and my recently acquired i phone. What I wondered did we do before we can technological appliances to occupy us? Oh that would be beef tea and a book!
On the off-chance my mother planned to phone me I called to say ‘please refrain from disturbing my slumber’. No answer! What? Where the bl**dy hell are they? Out per chance – how dare they! Then I remember its Tuesday, the day on which persons of a certain (older) age group get cheap admission to the cinema. Retirement has meant my parents see far more films that I ever manage to fit in. My pa was in London in the hey day of the Pinewood Studios and loves nothing more than an (old) film. The current iteration of Le Carre’s Tinker Tailor has failed to impress him. Neither of them were taken with Jane Eyre either – too dark (literally and metaphorically). What did they expect the Bronte’s are hardly known for writing uplifting chick lit!
Anyway back to yesterday afternoon/evening. I was lying watching a jumpy version of DCI Banks on watch again wondering if the film would calm down and cease resembling a stuttering pilot version. It did; completely i.e. it stopped altogether! In my fragile state I wanted to scream ‘the world is conspiring against me – the broadband had dropped out to the extent that my wi-fi connection wasn’t registering at all. Hmm what now? I tried to pick up the wi-fi on the phone and that confirmed that someone or something had erased the network! The six others that we were being picked up, presumably from my neighbours houses, were all password protected. Bugger! How unsupportive is that? You see when people say ‘let me know if you need anything’ don’t mean it; not really! What I need NOW is a lend of yer network lady!
I pondered on the merits of going downstairs to fiddle with the router and resisted the temptation. Well at least initially i.e. at the point it could have provoked tears. There are seldom times when it would be nice to have a competent plus one in situ and this is one. So the Kindle won the day. I have given myself time off my persevering with a ‘serious’ novel and have started another Danish crime story (that so far is awfully familiar i.e. I suspect I have read it before). Smoking in bed is one of my bad habits as the burn marks in the duvet cover/quilt testify; thank heavens for fire retardant chemicals! I give up when I eventually start dropping off to sleep. Not before I have popped downstairs and unscrewed various leads attached to the router – nothing works and I decide to see if it rectifies itself overnight which it thankfully does.
This morning I went to the doctor having concluded that feeling like your lungs were tearing when you coughed (VERY PAINFUL) was probably cause for concern on this occasion. After listening to my chest the doctor says ‘there are a few crackles’ so I’ll give you some antibiotics. There we go then! At the Chemist we have the plastic bag conversation and I learn that prescriptions are exempt from the 5p charge as long as I don’t put anything else in it! Hmm two bags = environmental damage that should prick my conscience but curiously doesn’t!
Last week I finally e-mailed Womens Hour about the Salons and the parlance coverage of spinsterhood. One presenter is out of the office until November – strange as I swear I heard her on the radio – the other one responds saying she has forwarded my email onto a colleague. So who knows ladies perhaps we might hear something and get the opportunity to share the Victorious Endeavours experience with a wider audience. With my chest complaint I won’t hold my breath just now incase unsophisticated panting is the outcome!
In sophistication with a touch of fragility and a good old-fashioned swoon….