This morning I rise like a phoenix from the ashes, refreshed, renewed and ready to take on this sometimes shit of a world. OK. Maybe that is stretching the truth slightly. But that’s what I’m telling myself. I work on the principle that if you tell yourself something for long enough you do actually end up believing it.
And frankly there is nothing much wrong with my world. I have just felt a great lethargy of late. That ‘can’t be bothered’ syndrome. And yesterday I just about polished myself off. As I mentioned, it was Richards birthday and he chose to go to the cinema to see Oz in 3d, which by the way was quite good. We took a slight detour first and popped into Marks for one or two little items of ladies stuff. Well, it was Richards birthday and he does enjoy trotting along behind me through the ladies undies section. We also took a stroll through the food department and bought a bag of jelly babies, a bag of chocolate eclairs, a bag of mini-eggs and a packet of cherry shortcake biscuits to eat in the cinema. I feel quite ill just typing this!
We scoffed the lot between us. I would like to say that the birthday boy pigged the larger amount but I’m not sure that he did. An hour into the film and I felt my eyes closing. How flipping embarrassing was that? I NEVER fall asleep in the company of other people. I say other people when actually there were only four other people in the cinema. But that still counts. I rallied round at the point where the wicked witch of the west hurtled off the screen and appeared to land on my head.
I continued the assault on my body when we arrived home by working my way through two bowls of broccoli and Stilton soup, two oranges and a bowl of muesli. I had to crawl up the stairs last night and lie flat on my back to ease the burden.
However, here I am. A survivor of the gluttony. Up and dancing. I tell a lie …but I am up. And I am back on the road to ‘CAN be bothered!’ And, I hear you ask … why? Because the sun is shining, even though it is cold, and I have a new garden shed imminently due. Yes. A garden shed. How cool is that? And what reason to rejoice!
You see, I’m not a girlie. I’m a tomboy. Always have been. Always will be. I don’t possess one item of jewellery other than a silver chain with a tiny frog on it …and that’s broken. I wear nail varnish purely to cover-up the potting compost that I can’t shift from under my nails. This pink blog is the nearest I get to that colour. My requests for birthday presents involve things like, a new wheelbarrow, a garden trug, a bird table, a greenhouse and stuff like that. Mind I did have a tantrum one year when I walked into the kitchen and found my birthday present from Richard’s mum, Betty.
Sitting there, in the middle of the floor, with a red bow on it, was … wait for it … a doormat! A frigging doormat! When questioned, with a very powerful light shining in his face and with a turn of the thumbscrews, Richard said, ‘Well you said we needed a doormat, so I told mum you would like one.’
I think, at that point, I may have walked away… before I wrapped it around his daft head and suffocated him with it!!
A doormat! He has NOT made the same mistake twice.
So I am up and bouncing at the prospect of my new shed. I shall fill it with my tools, all arranged by size, and my billion plant pots, again, all arranged by size, because my COD allows nothing less. A place for everything and everything in its place.
Wow, I can barely believe the energy flooding through me now. I think I’ll just pop up and clean the loo before the tide runs out. And then I will have the chucks out and stand and stare a while at my patch of land where the new shed will shortly stand.
It takes precious little to please me, you know. The odd trug. A bit of greenhouse staging. A few plant pots. Four bags of compost for the price of three.
Take care my lovelies x