Friday was a delightfully curious day; of a good old fashioned Woolworths variety but which I mean some old favourites covered in the dried spittle of passersby alongside a few fresh treats. I remember bothering my poor father to buy us pick ’n’ mix without realising how expensive it was. My brother and I graduated to a 5p and 10p mix from the local shop as we got older; even graduating to a minor spot of shoplifting I seem to recall! And although I smile as I remember this I am not proud of this brush with delinquent behaviour!
So Friday, I wake with the alarm at 6 am having been awake every hour or so through the night. Unsurprisingly I am tired and momentarily toy with the idea of pulling the duvet back and pretending I overslept as an excuse for not going swimming. But no I think don’t be a lazy mare get you far from svelte backside down the stairs; take drugs; make coffee; download Guardian onto kindle; take coffee upstairs; drink coffee whilst scanning the paper; and put on swimming costume before leaving the house at 645 am.
I do all of those things arriving a little late at the leisure centre i.e. my friend has already gone in so I will have to wait for an update of her chatroom activity until we are in the pool and cannot be overheard. As I am bunny hopping down the corridor on my crutches the attendant shouts to get my attention to tell me the small pool is closed. The small learner pool is big enough to swim properly in and has the added benefit of being warmer than the main one.
As I am already here I continue to the changing room where fellow swimmers are already in their costumes waiting for the gate to be opened. After a brief conversation with my friend we decide that it is a supremely bad idea for me to go into the main pool as it is extremely unpredictable in terms of temperature i.e. it’s freezing! As I make my way back to the car I regret not going with my first instinct of staying in bed.
On the plus side I have an extra hour meaning I can get out of the house before my cleaner arrives thereby avoiding instant coffee and conversation. Unfortunately this doesn’t quite work out as she is early! I eventually get to the post office to post a letter that I had forwarded on to a colleague without removing my address i.e. I posted it back to myself! The stamp has now been used twice and some helpful person has drawn a line across it! The jaunty message inside the envelope will be meaningless by now!
The next few hours are spent in Starbucks (working), watching a children’s theatre piece from a Hijinx workshop in a special school (funny and heart breaking in equal measure) and lunch with a friend who I haven’t seen for ages. At this point the effects of not having slept (for six nights in a row) manifest themselves and I take a detour to Barry to get more drugs. At this point I decide to pop into Morrisons.
Standing in the queue to pay I am behind a fierce looking woman leaning heavily on a trolley. She is in an active discussion with the assistant about her health lottery card – since they were introduced I seem to have witnessed this exact conversation numerous times. For some reason the woman suddenly stands up and confesses she’s leaning on someone else’s trolley – no doubt provoked by the owner turning round to get it.
‘No my trolley’s over there with mum’s’ nodding in the direction of an elderly lady standing my two trolleys. Then she regales me and the assistant with the story of how her mother had been dropped out side Morrisons whilst she went to Argos. When she came back she found her mother standing red faced at the entrance. Rushing over to find out what the problem was her mother (down from Manchester), had gone and sat in a car earlier even buckling up the seat belt. The only problem is the car she got into did not belong to her daughter; we all sniggered at hearing this! Her mother on the other hand was a dead ringer for Queen Victoria; she did not look amused.
Later I was going out for Japanese food with another friend and I man pulled up next to me shouting angrily to turn my lights on; they were already on. Getting out my friend reported there were no lights on the back of the car at all; I drive a black car and it was dark. The drive home was a nightmare with every other car flashing me angrily; I swear I could lip read them saying ‘bloody women driver’! Over dinner we attempt not to talk about the car whilst talking about the car; we conclude a fuse must have gone. A diagnosis made by two women who know nothing about car mechanics is a fuse must have gone – based on her husband’s recent experience.
Saturday morning I go to BETS (local garage in Barry) and the lovely man makes me very happy when he tells me the bulbs had both blown. £20 and 30 minutes and all is well with my worldly automobile relationship. Friend with benefits comments that this is cheaper than a ticket! I have already decided he is off the Christmas card list after recent unacceptable (to me) behaviour – the problem with being brought up nicely is he will never notice that I am being aloof. His Christmas card is written to him not using his pet name; he is no longer my pet! As I have mentioned previously the benefits I refer to are a form of itch that need scratching periodically; I am currently looking for another form of antihistamine!!