I have written before about the blind animosity of inanimate objects. The needle that stabs you, the item you drop not once, but three times, the pot that boils over just before you reach it, all the things that fight back. My day has been filled with these. The only highlights have been lovely comments from my blogging community – keep ’em coming, you lot.
I woke up sore and tired from the previous several days hammering it at the gym. When I tipped the scales at a nasty, nasty number, I decided enough was enough. Pain was no longer a good enough excuse to move less and less. Anyway, this morning I went back to the gym and hammered it some more. The promised endorphin rush failed to arrive, but I did burn a few calories. Then I stabbed myself painfully in the left index finger with the filleting knife. Just the tiniest pierce of the skin, but it went quite deep and bled copiously. The soup pot boiled over when I was down the other end of the house, which now smells of burned soup and I have to clean the stove. It rained when I needed sunshine for the laundry. And last, but not least, I locked myself out of the house when I went out to buy milk. With the Husband at work and a couple of hundred kilometres away. No, we haven’t got a secret hidden set of keys anywhere outside. Yet. Normally, I don’t have to worry. The car keys are in my handbag, with keys to the back door, and there’s a remote control for the garage door. Only the Husband took the car today, and I didn’t check before closing the garage door behind me whether he’d taken my set out of my handbag, or the spare set from the cupboard. No prizes for guessing which… He can now look forward to years of me asking him irritating key-related questions. Anyway, my sister in law a few streets away was fortunately home, it being a public holiday, and even more fortunately had a key to one of our doors which we’d had the foresight to leave with her some months ago. So I trudged round there a bit wearily, got them, trudged home and let myself in, leaving the house again on my milk mission with keys to every known door plus a garage remote. Hah!
On the global scale of Great Disasters, these things don’t rate very high. But the biggest downer is that I haven’t had time to sew. Now that’s a tragedy.