There’s not a lot of coherent narrative flow going on in my life right now, and so, to reflect that, here are some random observations for you.
1. My granddad used to tell the story of the boy who made a penny each day by not spending a penny to ride the bus, but running behind it instead. We made a fortune on the weekend by not buying a house. That’s how it works, isn’t it? I’m a little bit sad because we did get somewhat emotionally invested in the place, only to have it sell before auction. But it went for way more than it was worth. The buyers got ripped off. And the kitchen was stupidly small and in the wrong place. Bad, dumb house. With the best backyard ever, but still. Bad dumb overpriced house.
2. I am high on paint fumes. The window frames of our flat are being painted, by the slowest painters in history. My baby will probably be born with two heads. But then they do say two heads are better than one.
3. May Blossom is being extremely two at times. Many of those times are when she decides to snatch a toy from another kid. Hilariously, she shouts ‘SNATCH!’, then bounces angrily on her toes, going nowhere for a few seconds, before she lunges, which is a dead giveaway and leads to much failure and frustration from her attempted toy raids.
4. My husband takes nice pictures at night. (See above.) I am so tired at the moment that I don’t even know when these were taken. He could be leading a double life after I fall asleep, for all I’d know. In response to that, he would say ‘I’d like the time to lead a double life.’ Wouldn’t we all.
5. For the first time in my life I have low iron. This may have been a contributing factor in why I fainted halfway through the premiere of the play my brother-in-law is starring in at the moment. It was mortifying. I realised I was going to either throw up if I stayed seated, or faint if I stood up. I chose to get the hell out, in a lying downish position. Iron tablets it is.
6. I am trying to do my US tax (I have dual citizenship so I have to file two tax returns). I hate tax. This is how prefer to deal with tax:
If I can’t see tax, tax can’t see me.
My mother, who is the Patron Saint of Making Her Kids Do Their Tax Before They Get Carted Of To Tax Prison Island (that’s a real place, isn’t it?), spends a lot of time trying to convince me that my method (above) is not as efficient as her method (doing the tax in a timely fashion and without high drama). I’m not convinced yet.