Bacon, cheesy mash, salad
This morning I was dragged out of sleep by mum calling “Cat, they’re here! They’re here!” I responded with my customary “huh?” Mum, speaking from the bathroom, insisted that she hadn’t said anything and had been asleep all the time.
It took me a few indignant minutes to work out that what I had heard was mum farting – the toilet being approximately six inches from my sleeping head (on the other side of a wall, obviously) – and my hyper-vigilant brain had interpreted it as a call for attention.
The rest of the day was much the same as every other day recently. (Except for the visit from the solicitor, which went off smoothly, thank you.)
So, in the absence of any great interest elsewhere, I went shopping. This has to be done online, for obvious reasons, but I ordered myself a large box of snackage from my old favourite, Snackeroo, and a selection of jewellery, a new wallet, a cool hat (which I may or may not wear much), and a pair of socks decorated with ladybirds for mum.
Then I went into dream shopping mode, looking at prices for the American style fridge-freezer, with inbuilt ice cube dispenser, that I would love to have in my new flat (wherever that ends up being). Mum always makes a ridiculous amount of fuss when I get ice for my drinks – I make too much mess (it’s just water!) and too much noise – and I am dreaming of just having cold drinks wherever I want.
More often than I would like to admit, I just drink my drinks at room temperature, purely to avoid the argument that would result from me acquiring ice cubes. It’s a depressingly accurate reflection of my life as a whole, really.
With groceries delivered today (struggling to stay on my perching stool while putting salad in the fridge, I asked mum for help. “Help? With what?” 🙄🤦♂️), I had lots of options for dinner. I thought bacon, cheesy potatoes, and salad would be a safe option, but mum took the smallest possible quantity as she “didn’t want much”.
She is now, naturally, stuffing herself with coffee ice cream. By this stage I’m too tired and resigned to be cross with her. Hopefully in the next few days the results of my retail therapy will be delivered, and I will be just as tired but with chocolate and cake and sparkly owl earrings.
Is that a happy conclusion? Honestly it’s not even really a proper conclusion. Oh well.
