I didn’t get to sleep until nearly five this morning. I woke at seven, and then at nine and finally got up at about eleven.
It has not been a good day. I am tired, which makes everything treacle thick. The good thing is that I am too tired to be angry. The bad thing is that I am too tired to stop myself being sad and utterly, utterly sick of everything. If I weren’t so tired it would be the kind of day I would want to go round smashing things with sticks and then cry because everything was broken. Even though it would be my fault, but don’t tell me that, because I will just cry harder.
Oscar has a rash which started on his foot this morning, and which by this evening was up both of his legs. It doesn’t look like any kind of dangerous rash and I should know because I spent about two hours of my life this evening photographing his rash from every conceivable angle and then trying to play match the rash with Google images. After which we were all a bit distraught. I made him take an anti-histamine and threw him in the bath with some Roman Chamomile. If nothing else he will be clean and fragrant. Even if it is chiggers.
In the end I got Tilly to send all the photographs to Bred who is currently doing night shift in children’s A&E. He waved it at an overworked, underpaid junior doctor who said it looked viral and only to panic if his breathing went on the wonk. I shall be sleeping well tonight with that in mind. I say sleeping well. I shall be getting up every hour to go and prod him, just like when he was a baby.
I went up to the post office today and was so heartily sick of my house that after I had run my errand I dropped into the supermarket next door, bought myself some picnic snacks and took myself up the road to the local park to dine en plein air. I found a secluded spot that was sunny enough to be nice and shady enough not for me to to turn into a lobster. I was starving and was just enjoying myself, because I had bought myself food that I hadn’t cooked, that only I liked and that I did not have to share with anyone, when round the corner came two little girls with their mum and a puppy.
I tried to think nice thoughts about them until the oldest of the two girls who must have been five or six, kept tormenting the smaller of the two girls who was maybe three or four. The smaller of the two was playing quite happily and then the older one would just loom in, get right in her face and holler abuse at her until she cried. The mum then came piling up and hollered abuse in the older one’s face for being mean to her sister. This went on for about ten minutes with small interludes. Finally, I could stand it no longer, so I got up to go and just as I did, the smallest girl snapped, grabbed a branch and whacked her sister over the head with it.
Saved me the bother.
I thought about chucking her £20 and my bag of snacks so she could get out of dodge but didn’t want to be arrested for breaking social distancing, despite my instincts.
When I got home I was even more harassed than I was when I left. Jason took pity on me and took me for a pointless drive in the car for an hour. We played terrible Eighties tunes and talked about nothing important at all. We bought no supplies. We talked to nobody else. We did nothing practical whatsoever. It was marvellous. It was without doubt, the nicest part of my week so far.
Our water pressure is on the fritz and the man from Severn Trent came to look at it today. In conclusion, the pressure is fine outside the house and up to the front door. It’s grand outside the back door. It’s dismal inside the house. This probably means something terrible, but this is not in the man from Severn Trent’s remit to fix.
The dish washer broke again today. The engineer fixed it last Friday and we had several blissful days of happy washing. This morning it packed up half way through the cycle and we had to bail out and paddle around festooned in tea towels.
Still, the day is done now. We move on.