Scary moments

I am writing early because we are going to watch a film and go to bed.

The film is going to be a bit difficult arrange, because we do not have a sofa at the moment, and I like to sit on a sofa to watch films. This is because I can tuck my cold feet underneath warmer bits of Mark. Also if you are on a sofa you do not inadvertently topple your chair over if something makes you jump, and you can curl back into reassuring cushions should there be a scary bit.

That is to say, we do have a sofa, but it is in the conservatory underneath a massive stack of other things that we might want some day but don’t at the moment, like the bit of carpet Mark cut out to build the new kitchen. We are keeping this, I suppose, just in case we change our minds and decide to put it all back again and not have a new kitchen after all.

We have contemplated the sofa difficulty and think that we can probably have a reasonably relaxing time in the dining chairs with our feet on the coffee table. If we make sure that the film is not scary then I will not jump and accidentally tip mine over. At the very least it will be more comfortable than behind the steering wheel of a taxi.

We are not behind the steering wheels of taxis tonight because it is very quiet. We were at work last night until half past three in the morning, at which point fortunately we both got an encouragingly lengthy fare out of the nightclub, but had it not been for that our homecoming would have been very doleful indeed. Tonight I got in touch with some of the other equally penniless drivers and we decided that we would not all go to work at once. Six customers split between two taxis offers a glimmer of hope. Six customers split between four taxis is dreary and dull.

In any case Mark is off tomorrow to carry on with the installation of rural broadband, which is such a massive relief that I can hardly tell you. We do not have to worry that we will starve to death and be obliged to put Oliver up for sale on the internet. No matter how bad January is in the Lake District, we are going to be perfectly all right.

We are always perfectly all right, actually, but it doesn’t stop me worrying about it sometimes, in the stilly watches of the night.

Mark was not at work today, which was convenient because we had got to go to the dentist. I do not think that I want to do this again, it is expensive, scary and unproductive. It cost us forty four quid to discover that we did not have toothache, which we knew, also that my teeth are ridiculously sensitive, which we knew, and also that the dentist, who is about fourteen years old, drinks too much and gets taxis home from the nightclub sometimes, which we also knew. I was pleased not to need any fillings, because I am very scared indeed of the dentist, and also because of the tight January budget, but the whole thing was an Ordeal. I have gone off the dentist. Years ago we had a very nice dentist who used to let me have plenty of gas and air for my check-ups, which made them far less upsetting, but they don’t do that these days.

Once we had come home from the dentist we restored our equilibrium with tea and chocolate biscuits. This was breakfast so it doesn’t count towards messing up New Year Resolutions, none of which I have made anyway. After that Mark set to building the new kitchen.

He spent a lot of time measuring things and doing sums, because he has got to put new water pipes in and they will be expensive. He has worked it all out and we have saved up last night’s nightclub takings towards it, which is exciting, because it means that we have as good as got them once we have earned just a bit more money. He has got to take up the floor upstairs to put them in, so I am not exactly sorry that it will take a couple of weeks.

Today he has been putting the mountings in for the new cupboards. He did not get the new cupboards on to the wall in the end because of deciding about the early night. He is working tomorrow so I might have to wait a few days for those, but it is coming together in a very thrilling sort of way.

LATER NOTE: The dining chairs were just fine. We watched some episodes of a series called The Crown. It was the second series, and I am relieved to be able to tell you that there were no scary bits at all. Also it was rubbish. I do not believe for one minute that the dear Queen and the splendid Prince Philip carry on like that. We were enthralled and entertained, and ate too many chocolates, but it was tripe all the same.

I put some sheepskin socks on so that was all right as well.