I am feeling wrung out.
It has been a wringing sort of day.
As soon as Mark has disappeared off to work I rushed into the kitchen to do the day things. Today these were biscuit-baking, sausage and ham roasting, and laundry, because it was not only Council Speech Day but also, and possibly more importantly, Clean Sheets Day.
What an exciting life I do lead.
After that I dashed up here to rewrite my speech for the council, and then out over the fell to give the dogs a decent go at being emptied before I had to leave.
We did not go on our usual walk because of this hurry. We had to go a different way and rush, and Roger Poopy’s father got confused and got lost. This meant that I had to run up and down the fell side bawling for him, until eventually he appeared on the horizon, looking befuddled and a bit anxious.
I herded him in the right direction, and he kept glancing back at me to try and work out what was going on, but he couldn’t, because of not understanding about council meetings, and he was upset all the way home.
I had to change when I got back. In fact I had to shower, because of having become hot and sweaty whilst hunting for the stupid dog. Also my trousers were covered with muddy smears and dog paw-marks, and I wanted to create a rather better impression than seemed likely under the circumstances.
Oliver had do come with me, because the council meeting was at two, and he had an appointment with the orthodontist at four. This turned out to be a damp squib in the end because the orthodontist poked about in his mouth and decided that he didn’t want to do anything today after all. We had been waiting for ages and ages, and we were out in less than thirty seconds.
The council refused to budge on the promised fare increase of five percent, but they did promise us that they would review it in a few weeks time and possibly increase it if fuel prices continue to rise. I thought that this was a hopeful sign, although I am never very hopeful when it comes to the council.
We might get a fare increase yet.
Oliver sat and listened patiently throughout the whole thing, and decided that he does not want to be a politician, local or otherwise, when he grows up, nor probably a civil servant. I am pleased about both of these decisions, having made them both myself.
I should have gone to Asda but had no heart for such an activity, and also I was wearing my smart clothes. These are never a comfortable option, and I wanted to take them off before they became smart clothes with ladders and stains.
We came home, and I reassembled myself in the muddy jeans to carry on with my day’s activities. These were still being rushed because of it being the night for my university course, and I gave myself indigestion trying to eat a whole plate of pasta in five minutes.
We are currently learning about screenwriting. This is more complicated than it sounds, being full of things like premises and other things that I have forgotten already, I will have to check the notes.
Either way, by the time the class had finished I was thinking so hard that my face had stuck into a frown and practically had to be prised open again under the shower.
I have got to write some bit of a screenplay, I forget which, for class next week.
It is something to do with a short film. We had to watch some short films for homework, but secretly I could not make head nor tail of any of them. Short films are all supposed to have a character arc in them, but since in one of them a weird looking bloke turned into the tooth fairy I might not quite have grasped that principle.
I am going to go on a properly long walk tomorrow and try and work it all out.
