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Hmm, I'm rather happier now. Having been for that walk - which has an anecdote attached - and been outside for rather longer than planned, I'm quite refreshed, if a little tired. I still have to go out tonight tho; I'd planned to stop going to this youthgroup thing 'cos I often just get ignored, but the person I talk to most at church is going and I've been rather mean and ignoring him a bit lately due to being too tired to think, so I'd better go. Maybe I'll report back tomorrow afternoon as to how I got on.
Anyway, the walk. At the start of the walk, my mother called 'Who's got a key' as usual, and my dad said he had. Normally at this point I demand to actually be shown the key, or locate my own, but I decided that I wasn't going to be fussy 'cos I was in an odd mood anyway. So we went for a nice walk, and I got bouncy and happy and chatty again, and we came back to the house discussing how we were going to eat cake and watch the Simpsons... and then we discovered my dad didn't have a key after all. I'd taken my fleece instead of my jacket 'cos it was so cold so I didn't have a key, and my mum didn't have her handbag so she didn't have her key.
After an interval of throughly searching all pockets for house or car keys or other useful items and some panicking, we decided that someone was going to have to go and fetch the spare key from my grandma's house (my grandparents come to do housework on Tuesdays, so they have their own keys to our house), so we packed my dad off in a taxi (thankfully he did have his wallet, or he'd have been walking). Meanwhile, my mum and I went back to the house and wandered around the garden.
It's amazing what's fascinating when you're stuck. After playing I-spy for a while I found all kinds of odd things, the fact our garage was badly repaired with a darker kind of cement at some time, some strange silvery-plimsoll-rubber stuff stuck to the garage wall, the fact the top surface of some of the bricks around the flower borders had come off in a big slice (and that it didn't make decent marks on the light-coloured concrete like other bricks I remember doing similar things with), the enormous pebbles I picked up from a beach (in Scotland I think) when I was no more than about 7, which had been carefully transported to the new house, lined up on the edge of a flower-bed, forgotten and mixed up with the dirt and pebbles in the bed... when it began to drop cold we walked round and round the garden, talking... and when we got back in the house we really appreciated the heating and the TV and the cake...
So, despite having what would prolly be known as a crisis, I'm a lot happier than I was, if a little apprehensive about tonight. Oh, if only they'd let you have more than one mood per post...
Anyway, the walk. At the start of the walk, my mother called 'Who's got a key' as usual, and my dad said he had. Normally at this point I demand to actually be shown the key, or locate my own, but I decided that I wasn't going to be fussy 'cos I was in an odd mood anyway. So we went for a nice walk, and I got bouncy and happy and chatty again, and we came back to the house discussing how we were going to eat cake and watch the Simpsons... and then we discovered my dad didn't have a key after all. I'd taken my fleece instead of my jacket 'cos it was so cold so I didn't have a key, and my mum didn't have her handbag so she didn't have her key.
After an interval of throughly searching all pockets for house or car keys or other useful items and some panicking, we decided that someone was going to have to go and fetch the spare key from my grandma's house (my grandparents come to do housework on Tuesdays, so they have their own keys to our house), so we packed my dad off in a taxi (thankfully he did have his wallet, or he'd have been walking). Meanwhile, my mum and I went back to the house and wandered around the garden.
It's amazing what's fascinating when you're stuck. After playing I-spy for a while I found all kinds of odd things, the fact our garage was badly repaired with a darker kind of cement at some time, some strange silvery-plimsoll-rubber stuff stuck to the garage wall, the fact the top surface of some of the bricks around the flower borders had come off in a big slice (and that it didn't make decent marks on the light-coloured concrete like other bricks I remember doing similar things with), the enormous pebbles I picked up from a beach (in Scotland I think) when I was no more than about 7, which had been carefully transported to the new house, lined up on the edge of a flower-bed, forgotten and mixed up with the dirt and pebbles in the bed... when it began to drop cold we walked round and round the garden, talking... and when we got back in the house we really appreciated the heating and the TV and the cake...
So, despite having what would prolly be known as a crisis, I'm a lot happier than I was, if a little apprehensive about tonight. Oh, if only they'd let you have more than one mood per post...
