Categories: uncategorized
Date: 10 March 2006 12:34:30
It all started last weekend when I went whizzing up to Leeds to help a friend unpack a garage full of boxes. Admittedly I seemed to spend more time playing peek-a-boo on the stairs with a small child of smallness, but we did get something done. And I now have an even greater appreciation of the amount of sheer work involved in looking after something quite so small and gurgly.
Yesterday was spent in the Royal Marsden with Golightlycat, resolutely not watching as someone poked needles in her and then ran the chemotherapy drugs through her. It was lovely to catch up and have a natter, although I’d far rather have done it under pleasanter circumstances, and I got a lot done on what will heretofore for ever be referred to as “the Barbie Astroturf scarf.” At one point the nurse realised I was talking to Zoë, reading a magazine and knitting, all at the same time. This caused some comment.
Tonight I need to make brownies and iron a shirt, and going to Confession would be helpful, and my boots need polishing, and I need to do some laundry-wrangling, or what little of my wardrobe that still fits won’t be fit to be worn, then this weekend is Novice Vows weekend, and it’s been so mental this week I haven’t really had time to think about it as much as I’d like to. I’m sure some of that “prayer” stuff everyone keeps talking about would be useful beforehand. Next week I’m in Paris on business (oooh, hark at her the international jet-setter), from Wednesday to Friday, then Saturday I’m catching a train at some really quite madly unfeasible hour to go to Cumbria to see my granddad who is quite poorly and gave us all a heck of a scare earlier in the week (my dad, the man who never picks up the phone, phoned me two evenings on the trot, that’s not a good sign). The week after will probably be spent sleeping, then it’s my actual birthday, (my official birthday is being postponed this year due to Lent), and I need to find time to replace my clothes with ones that fit, and purchase and build new bedroom furniture, as my current wardrobe is more H P Lovecraft than C S Lewis, and I’m going to the Isle of Wight for four days on the 7th April, and then it’s Easter, and I’m going to run out of clean pants, I just know I am. And I can’t even have a reviving glass of something because I gave up alcohol for Lent. I’m supposed to be having dressmaking lessons from Rosamummy at some point, and I need a haircut as well.
And somewhere in all this I have to find time to go on a date with a man I met on a train who called me “stunning.” And breathe. Breathing would be good...
St Dominic, pray for me, I’d really rather prefer to be making my vows in a state of prayerful serenity, rather than my current state of vaguely stressed distraction.