I’m just waiting. But waiting for me isn’t about sitting around doing nothing. I like to use the time that I wait.
Time you see is a man-made commodity. There I go again using big words. In other words, we put our own chain around our necks when we created the concept of time. Here’s the biggest joke, I bet, and I don’t think I need to check Google on this one, but I bet it was a man that invented the clock. Ladies, you know exactly what I mean when I say that is pure irony.
I’m waiting for Mark to finish in the bathroom, which means I have a couple of hours to spare. Instead of sitting around, I’m talking to you lot, “Hi, it’s me.”
I can’t sit here and wait today. I’ve set my mutton in the slow cooker and I’ve decided to take the day out to do anything rather than wait, but there is the dilemma. What do I do?
I’ve still got a ticket for the indoor skydiving. I can go to the stables, I know that they will need help clearing up today after yesterday’s show. I can go and explore the Terracotta Army display in Liverpool or take a trip up to the Lake District. I have new walking boots that should be made illegal. They are amazing. I bought them for our holiday but I feel that they are a part of The Emperors New Cloths, they are so comfortable that you don’t even know that you have them on. I did a 4 mile walk yesterday and didn’t even realise until I checked my Fitbit. The dog was not amused.
The one thing that is for sure, is that I am not going to waste my time. It is only a concept and therefore is only essential for those that are religious about it. The biggest problem is, I’m one of them. I can’t idle, I just can’t. It kills me, tears me apart right down to the very fabric of my soul. It makes me itch with excruciating pain whenever I realise that I have passed time doing, dare I say it, nothing. Even when I watch the TV I have to be doing something else. I am creating a jumper at the moment, I won’t say crocheting, I’m still learning and it’s dawning on me that I need to learn to read patterns!
So, what to do. I’m going to take a vote, and before you say that I am wasting time sitting around writing, when I could be doing something else, let me assure you that I have to remain perfectly quiet and still for the next hour or so whilst Mark finds his bearings in the World, he is not a morning person.
The Vote. Like any good proposal, it needs to be cogitated and explained in detail, after all you can’t vote without knowing the full story. Heaven forbid, that would be like going into a general election and putting your X in a box because the candidate has a good name, and not knowing his policies. You wouldn’t do that now would you!
I can’t make the steak pies today. Mark will be in the kitchen fixing a leak, so I am staying out of the way. It’s always best. I think it should be noted that all men are like the Great Masters, Davinci and Rembrandt. When they are DIYing they are too close to the masterpiece and need to step back every now and again. I’m not going to be around to get my toes trod on, nor have to be an assistant. So, that leaves out anything around the house.
Painting, now there is an idea. Nope, still within shouting distance. Nope it’s not that I am an interfering cow, but this is my home as well, and being a time travelling perfectionist, I expect yesterday’s job, that is being done today to have been done perfectly yesterday. Doesn’t bode well in any relationship.
Go out on the bike, any of them, pedal, electric or motor. Let’s just say that the 4 mile hike yesterday rules that out. Even the motorbike would reduce my legs to jelly right now.
I think I’ll find a spot to be idle in. I don’t have to worry about time, I don’t have to worry about what I’m not doing, nor what I’m doing.
I can’t, the concept of being idle is creeping into my veins, spreading like barium meal coursing through me, chasing down the empty spaces. Waiting without purpose is like being weighted down on a planet where the gravity is oppressive.
I have a vision of sitting under a tree. Imagine the scenery. A beautiful summers day, the meadow in front of me filled with cornflowers and butterflies everywhere, the birds singing cheerful above me.
For most this would be the ideal place to relax and just be idle, but this is my living nightmare. A beautiful summers day. Bloody hay fever, snotty nose, itchy eyes or worse, a choking sensation in my throat. Being sensible I take an antihistamine. Now I just feel lethargic and drowsy.
“You could take an antihistamine that doesn’t make you drowsy.” I hear you say.
Yer right, and still have a blocked nose. And did you know they make you constipated?
I’ll compromise and take a shovitup your nose one.
Cornflowers and butterflies. Cornflowers, and weeds and nettles and marsh grass, and those things that always end up stuck to the inside of your knickers that look like micro WWII undersea mines. Sitting under a tree, with insects and other incredibly irritating little critters.
“But the butterflies are nice? Right.”
A close cousin to the moth. Sneaky silent flying insects, I’d rather have a wasp or a bee any time, at least they announce their presence. If I fell asleep whist being idle and one of them decided that my juicy moist tongue was a sumptuous plate, I’d end up with butterfly hors d’oevre. They suck the living juices out of you, did you know that. Look it up. Not so pretty after all. And don’t even get me started on horse flies.
“But you could close your eyes and just listen to the music of the birds in the trees.”
Let me remind you that we are sitting under that tree and I am going to now ruin every moment you have ever felt that brush of moisture upon your cheek. Bird piss. Tiny little droplets of piddle. So, when you feel a spot and you think it’s about to rain, but doesn’t, be aware that you have just been chosen as the piss pot of that bird that flies gracefully above you.
“Wear a hat!”
I am not being miserable and trust me, I love the country side, I go for long walks, which I find therapeutic and relaxing, whilst making up my quota of exercise. But sitting around is the most boring thing in the World. I even have to set a timer for reading. Any longer than thirty minutes and I end up feeling like someone is threatening to set my arse on fire. So what can I do today?
The Vote is on, shall I go for a swim, skydive, go and clear out horse manure, (wow that was polite for me), or should I just stay here and make Marks life hell. At least tomorrow I’d have something to do, divorce is a very complex, time consuming procedure, don’t you know.