Drama’s

Looks like I will be ogled by strange men, in strange vans and even worse maybe when in the shower should I be inclined to open the window. Now some of you may think ‘lucky woman!’ I am thinking is someone looking down on me and trying to work out how hard they can make life for me at this present time. The men are workman, in case you wondered, and I know you did. They are working on the wonderful rural school next door. Did my husband and I really coo to each other when first seeing our cottage with words to the effect of ‘Oh how lovely you can hear the children singing in assembly’ Admittedly it was so quiet in the village then. The only sounds were these angelic children singing a wonderful Hymn. But now, rather like ‘The Omen’ but triple fold these angels have turned into demons.
Play time has become that terror stricken 20 minutes when they scream and shout on the other side of my wall and swing on the school gate which is also connected to my Wall. Both little Cat Bendy and I jump at intermittent intervals. Ok so we are both nervous wrecks, but all the same. Then there is home time, great relief, unless I get home from work at the same time. Trying to park in my tiny village then is like trying to find a space in a congested supermarket car park. I then watch as the little angels climb all over my fence while their mums chat away and giggle and throw back their newly blown dried hair. But there is always the summer holidays thank God, unless they decide to rebuild the school. Yes, you guessed it, they are rebuilding the school and the builders are constantly parked alongside my garden. Topless sunbathing, I think not! So if that were not enough… I come home to cook my stepson his favourite dinner Thai Curry. I race to Sainsburys, race back careful as always not to have a car collision. This has become of paramount importance to me. Five seconds of my life and I am still trying to get my insurance money. I do not want a repeat of that, thank you. Get home, and hurrah get parked, a double plus. A quick shower, but no, it has decided not to work. I worry for a second and figure Andrew will sort it. Get the food on and unpack the shopping, between a quick Hoover. Multi tasking is a wonderful thing. It takes me 20 minutes to wonder why the curry is not heating up. Rush upstairs and find the trip switch has gone. Shower, I think. Andrew comes home to a panicky me.
‘Cooker isn’t working and your son will be here soon and food is not anywhere near done’ this is thrown at him with a look of desperation, which he returns, with a look of puzzlement tinged with some disappointment. Maybe this was because I hadn’t asked ‘had a good day dear? Do women really say that? How many men have good days at work anyway? (Too much generalisation here). I think I am also veering into some kind of stream of consciousness, STOP THERE! And back to the story. Andrew, calmly as ever tests everything while I quietly panic. It is the cooker! Can you believe it is the cooker? I want to cry. Andrew attempts to calm me with worse stories but nothing can be as bad as this. I do not have a cooker. The microwave saves the day but again I feel like the total failure.
Even worse in the last ten minutes I have sent a not so nice email to the headmistress of the school. Even I am wondering am I pre menstrual. Some strange woman followed this from the school knocking at my door. I bow my head in shame because I could not bear to answer the door and have more confrontations. Oh dear, will the day get worse or better… watch this space. Thumping headache to boot.
Life is such a pleasure

Yuk Yuk

Mmmm, not a good day.  Funny how dreams run through your day. Funnier still that I should dream about my ex husband, Stephen Fry and my current husband. Whoops, did I say current husband? Freudian slip surely, for could I really cope with a third? I think not! Anyway Seems I preferred my husband at the end, so greatly relieved, although cannot recall why I recoiled from Stephen Fry. Well, the yuk yuk country village funfair is here again. Thrilled at managing to navigate  my car around their merry go rounds and strange carousel horses (reminisces of my dream) and safely made it through. I spent the good part of 15 minutes trying to work out the best way to park my car so hubby could also park while preventing any   invading persons visiting the fair from revving up outside the cottage but failed miserably. Turned off the temperamental CD player in the car which I swear I would throw out of the car window if only if were portable. How wonderful to listen to Van Morrison in the car, just would be even more wonderful to listen to him whilst the car is moving rather than only when stationary.Will work on this.

Spent the morning on the computer adding to the web page and getting stuff organised for the childless group, so stay posted group members. Pretty emotional morning though. Lots of talk at work of an ex member bringing in her baby. Lots of excitement but I am relieved I will not be working at the time she does come in. Hate these sudden emotional onslaughts that come on like moments such as these. Seem to spend my days crying to and from work. Often there is not even a trigger, there I am in floods on the bathroom floor like a blubbering idiot.  Funny how my dream was all about babies. Here I am childless and often miserable but putting on a great front and in my dream not one but three men want to make a baby with me. Must have been feeling pretty broody when going to bed last night! Ah well, reality kicks in. Dinner to cook, work to do on the computer. Again I wonder would I have time for a TV? That leads me onto the thought as always as to when are the TV licence people going to come and search the house. I wish they would, I should so enjoy it.