Some things:
* I was going to tell you the story of the flowers (see below), but as it turns out, it is not at all what I thought it would be, and so it requires more work.
* I wrote you the excellent story of an encounter I had in the playground earlier today, but wordpress lost it – suffice to say it ended with me thinking ‘well, I hope my children teach your children to say f**k’
* This weekend, I will not be reading Philip Adams’ column in The Australian magazine thingo. No, really, I’m not. I hadn’t read it for months, and then I read the one he wrote about John Button. Doesn’t he bore himself with his constant ‘anyway getting back to me’s? And yes, I get the irony of a blogger accusing a journalist of being a narcissit. But, like, at least I let other people get a word in.
* Facebook has pretty much weirded me out. But what will I miss out on if I leave?
* I’m not going in the ABR reviewing competition. You can still do it if you like, but since I’m not in it, it means you might come second. Second seems to be the reserved spot for me. Actually, I’m not feeling too down on myself about it, I’m just marvelling at my consistency (of which I have been reminded twice in this week alone).
* I do not have to go and scrub the laundry or the kitchen floor or the bathroom this weekend. The house is on the market (I am not some kind of landed gentry, I’ve just been co-ordinating a real estate ‘project’ – not my specialty if you know what I mean).
* We went to Target to buy socks and undies for my boys. Have I ever told you how much I hate shopping. No? That’s because words fail me. Shops suck. Especially shops which drip synthetic onto your skin as soon as you walk in the door and which always seem to have all their stock strewn across the floor. Why is that? If I wanted to sort through shit strewn across the floor I’d stay at home.
* I considered applying for a job. A really interesting job being the Arts in Health co-ordinator at a hospital. I’m sort of qualified for it. Sort of. But it’s three days. I just can’t fit it in. What with one thing and another. Plus, I do have to spread my opportunities for rejection around carefully (see point about coming second).
* There is more, but it gets progressively more boring after this…
do have a good weekend, won’t youse?
do tell the story of the playground encounter…
Oh, I want the story of the plaground too. Pleeeease? Write it in Word and then paste it in, and then you can’t possibly lose it. Unless Word crashes. Which might happen I guess. But isn’t likely.
You sound BUSY. House on the market? No wonder you’re stressed.
Pity about the ABR competition. I thought you should have entered it. You’d be in with a chance.
And hey, if I made a habit of coming second I would be delighted. Really.
I hope your kids teach hers to say f**k too, and I don’t even know what happened.
The story of the flowers . . . ?
Reading the weekend papers! Thinking about jobs! Entering competitions (or not)! What a rich and full life you lead.
I too, want the playground story. Please please.
Sounds like you have been having some of ‘life’s lumps’.