Life is short enjoy your coffee.
Today is Friday and oh the horrors that life can throw; the trials; the struggles….. this is the day that I have dreaded since a phone call yesterday when I discovered that fate and the plumber had got together and hatched a very nasty plan. At 10:30, which is about three whole hours before my normal getting up time, the horrible plumber is coming to service my boiler. At 10:30? Does he have sleep problems? Does he have some sort of medical problem, a lung condition which makes breathing painful and difficult unless he is out of bed and on his feet? Do I care?
My friend who organised the appointment for me could not contain her glee. I´m sooooooo sorry, she wailed between hoots of laughter – he could only come in the morning, bwhahahahaha………..I´ll ring you, to make sure you´re awake hahahahahahahaha.
Thanks. Very funny. At 10:30 I am actually awake, having been up with the dog; but I´m back in bed, in my pj´s, my toes are resting nicely on the hottest spot of my electric blanket, exactly where they should be on a winters morning. I´m on my laptop working, drinking coffee, relaxing, being civilized . I fail to see the pleasure to be had from catapulting yourself out of bed at 7a.m and arriving at the breakfast table at 7:15 having showered, dressed the children, prepared a warm and healthy meal, and put the first wash load on. Why? Are we living a life or competing in an outward bound course? What do these people do with the rest of the day? I think some of them sneak back to bed mid-morning, fully clothed and made up, incase someone calls.
My friends react in differing ways to my unusual awake/sleep/work pattern. Some find it funny, and take every chance to drag me from my bed. Others are horrified; What? they scream, by the time you´re up, I´ve cleaned the house, vacuumed the pool, walked the dogs, done the shopping , had my hair done and written twenty chapters of my next book. Well, what can I say to these domestic goddesses?……. for starters, I clean just often enough to keep myself out of the hospital; I don´t have a pool; my hair is short and can be brushed with my fingers ; I´m not writing a book and my children are adults and presumably dress themselves. I eat instant porridge for breakfast, two minutes in the microwave and my breakfast is ready; It lowers cholesterol too. Besides I´m an artist and artists are supposed to keep strange times. It´s in our job description. It´s in our genes. It´s what we do.
I get up when I´m ready, and it just so happens that I am rarely ready before mid day. Except, that is, today – when I have to get up in time to be presentable for the plumber. It´s strange isn´t it, to feel the need to look presentable. Why don´t I just roll out of bed when I hear him knocking on the door. Stagger downstairs in my nice new pink slippers and let the man in. He´s coming to check the boiler, for heaven’s sake, not me. I Bet he didn´t get up this morning and spend hours chosing his outfit. He´ll head straight to the boiler, I´ll linger in the kitchen, mourning the loss of my time in bed and even if he´s quick, my morning won´t be the same , it will be in tatters. I´ll do my online work at the table, instead of in my lovely, lovely bed. The dog will be wondering how come getting up time seemed to arrive right after his breakfast……….. he´ll be anxious; is something different going to happen? Is she catching a flight again and dumping me in the kennels? So you see, Mr Plumber both me and the dog are going to be seriously unnerved by this sudden change in our routine.
And what am I going to do after he´s gone? Polish the floors? Wash the windows? Depends on how long he is here I suppose…………we may just sneak back to bed and try to carry on as normal.
Have a great Friday everyone,
Judy xxx
