Sunday, 10 December 2006

Take One Duster...

YESTERDAY I had the day off. There were no events or family gatherings in my diary – things that usually fill my Saturdays. Dearly beloved is working (he's a cabinet-maker who makes kitchens) and everyone is wanting their kitchens finished before Christmas (so inconsiderate! Get a takeaway). So I decided that today I would have a blitz on the house. This is how it went:
1. Make a list. Include on list everything I intend to do today, from wash the kitchen floor to sort through pile of magazines in the spare bedroom.
2. Read list while drinking a cup of coffee and eating a chocolate biscuit.
3. Pile dishes into dishwasher, pile clothes into washing-machine.
4. Feel slightly virtuous. Can at least now see my kitchen worktops.
5. Hoover sitting-room. Keep one eye on lovely, soft settee. Intend brief sit-down to see if it’s as comfortable as I remember. It is.
6. Spot DVD of A Hard Day’s Night which Craig from work has lent me. Wake up an hour later. Switch off DVD.
7. Drink another cup of coffee hoping that caffeine will keep me awake.
8. Make bed. Spot book, Cruel and Unusual by Patricia Cornwell, on bedside table. Just have to find out whether Dr Kay Scarpetta can solve the mystery of the bloody fingerprints. An hour later I know who did what to whom and why.
9. Remove clothes from washing-machine, pile in another load of clothes picked up from bedroom floor. Can at least now see carpet.
10. It’s noon. A bit early for lunch, but what the heck. An early lunch will leave me a long afternoon in which I can get lots done.
11. Make cheese on toast with tomato. Eat lunch while watching television. Still feel peckish. Find half a packet of ginger nuts. Intend to eat only one.
12. Throw away empty ginger nut packet.
13. Finish watching old black and white film on television.
14. Decide to tackle pile of magazines in bedroom. Had forgotten what fascinating articles are in magazines. Now know that garlic is good for colds and that Kate Moss will marry Pete Doherty. I know how to minimise my wrinkles; why grey is the new black; who’s who in the Size-OO modelling world; and everyone’s views on whether Madonna should have adopted Baby David. I also know the signs that show my man is cheating. He'd better be looking for the signs of demented woman with rusty razorblade in hand if he is.
15. Hear front door opening. Leap to feet and start feverishly sorting through pile of magazines.
16. My dearly beloved pokes head around bedroom door. “You’re busy!” he says. Rub back of hand along forehead and sigh deeply. “I should say, but if it’s got to be done, it’s got to be done,” I say, and smile sweetly.
17. Dearly beloved says we will go out for pub dinner as we’ve both been working so hard all day…
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1 comment:

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