This week! God help me! For a single barren spinster, there are no bigger words to put the fear of God into me than these “school holidays!”
Parents should be made to enjoy their time with their spawn at home in solitude or grandparents even. Totally getting why grandma had a happy hour. I am not a fan of school holidays. My ovaries dry up.
My girl Tuesday (support worker, one of my regulars) was in a lift in the city and suggested the lift should have music. I reminded her in a building full of people with disabilities and oxide sensitivities that would not go down well. So I proceeded to put this song in her head!
You are welcome!
Was in the city for the last two days, yesterday I didn’t leave until 4.30pm meaning I actually got home in the dark. Don’t know if I’ve mentioned? I can’t see in the dark and I then had to complete all my chores and some and didn’t sit down and take my shoes off until 8pm. Although thanks to my Indian taxi driver Young Deepak, I had eaten dinner by 9pm. He had given me a curry.
I didn’t actually eat lunch today but such an early dinner prompted me to ask Noelle, “is this what it’s like to be old?” and Noelle is my age, so misplaced that it was.
Looking forward to lunch today, an almond croissant and my medicine!
People are often surprised by my wit or humour and speed to which I can deliver it. You may not pick it from my blog, but when I make calls to organise services and such, people often asked what “company” I’m from and this is even after I have stated I’m one of your clients.
But often, when I have to state my date of birth so I can be found on a database, I rattle off “28/10/72” I know they are just clarifying when they ask “1972?” but today I threw back “Well, I wasn’t born in 1872!”
There must be a better way so as not to suggest I might be 146, I could have said just ‘Yes’, but where’s the fun in that?
I have carers, as you know who take me shopping and even my morning carer that helps me get ready after my shower, to face the day, they all become my friends. It’s inevitable, the ones I can’t crack are usually very reserved, on account of them not planning to put down roots and those don’t plan to stay in the job long term, choosing to move onto other things.
When out and about on my shopping adventures, it’s much more like I’m hanging out chatting with a girlfriend.
I might have mentioned, my carers are usually older, sometimes younger, rarely my actual age.
I’m now 46 years old and I get along with all my carers regardless of their age.
Off to the supermarket on Friday, I don’t remember what we were discussing when I said “Yeah, well, I finished High School in 1990.”