I am feeling very pleased with myself because I have managed to be true to my ambition and got the children’s bedrooms tidy and clean already. It has been an ongoing bit-at-a-time project over the last few days, culminating in putting the sheets back this morning and cleaning their bathrooms. Oliver’s bathroom was revolting; think of two distracted small boys in a constant rush in order not to miss an approaching zombie and with no interest whatsoever in not missing the loo, and you get the idea.
I got it all done before I went to work and had the immense satisfaction of closing the doors on two immaculate, polished bedrooms. I even hoovered the stairs going up to their floor as a bit of a bonus.
It is rather sweet to think that there is peace of mind and joy to be had from something so simple. I went off to work knowing in my innermost soul that I was a Good Person who had their life Properly Organised. I can now justifiably behave with tolerant graciousness towards lesser mortals who have not emptied their bins or put washing soda in the plugholes because they just aren’t as virtuous as I am. How satisfying life can be at times.
Work was very quiet. I was expecting this, as the middle of a wet February in the Lake District is never going to attract hundreds of tourists, so my standard for what constitutes a reasonable day’s takings is very low indeed, anything more than £20 is a bonus.
I have been trying to earn enough money to go and get my hair cut on Friday, but it is unbelievably uphill. I recklessly blew all of my takings from yesterday on some more hyacinths, because they are beautiful and my favourites, and a Beano for Oliver and a Large Letter stamp: which cost absolutely every penny I had managed to scrape together in ten hours of patiently hanging about on the taxi rank, including the ones down the back of the seats which had fallen out of unsuspecting customers’ pockets. Today I have read my library books and watched an amusing film that Number One Son-In-Law sent to me which reminded him of our dog, and which made me laugh a lot, and exchanged gossip with the other drivers.
I like doing this very much. The taxi rank is one of my favourite sources of information about the world, both local and national. There is almost never any truth in anything that you hear, but that doesn’t matter because it is always deeply interesting and full of indignant detail, a bit like a sort of oral version of the Daily Mirror. I had a very nice day listening to stories, and once I had to stop listening to take a lady back to her hotel because she was too tired to walk up the hill, and later on I took an hotel porter to work because he had missed the bus, and I read a book written by somebody in Guantanamo Bay, which was troubling, and I was very glad that nobody is ever likely to think that I am a terrorist and send me there: and having exhausted that resource for amusement and made almost half the money I needed for my haircut I gave up at about eight o’clock and went for a swim, which made me feel thinner as well as virtuous, and was ace.
When I was halfway through Mark appeared, which was actually even nicer. He has decided that tiling the kitchen and refitting the sink is a good way to spend the rest of the week. He has had enough positive and encouraging responses to make him feel quite comfortable about heading offshore in a few weeks when the weather improves, and doesn’t think he can do much more up there now, so he is here. I was very pleased to see him, and had a special celebratory wash with my favourite Chanel soap in the shower afterwards, which is gorgeous and doesn’t just smell lovely but has a pleasing round shape and is heavy and solid in my hand, and makes me feel expensive and contented.
I am sitting in front of my computer now, feeling relieved because I do love him after all and I had had a horrible anxious nasty feeling that maybe I was the sort of person who only loved their husband when he was rich: but I am so very happy to discover that I am not. It is splendid that he is here. He is smiling and sensible and safe. All sorts of worrying things like the shrinking log pile and the funny noise in the car and the dog behaving like a complete pillock are going to be all right now. It is a lovely way to end the day, even if we might not be very rich at the moment. I don’t mind at all tonight.
1 Comment
Certainly money does not make you happy. I can recall a comment by Arnold Schwartzeneger (?) Who, when asked whether having money made you happy, said “Certainly not, he was now worth twenty million dollars, but he had been just as happy when he only had eighteen million dollars.”