Pages

Saturday 25 April 2009

Reasons to be stressful

I'm really loving friday playdate's Grace in Small Things. I love the idea of counting blessings.

Sadly, however, this is one area where I have to live vicariously. I'm not a blessings-counter. I can always find some reason even in the happiest moments to moan about something. The other day we went to see Inkheart, and (look away now if you don't want to know what happens) in the end the family are reunited after many years, the wife gets her voice back, and everyone is happy.

"I don't believe that," I told Mr Coffee. "I can't believe she's not telling her husband what a bad time she had. She hasn't been able to speak for years."

Mr Coffee nodded, sadly. He knew that's exactly what I would be doing if I found myself reunited with my loved ones after many years of loneliness and heartbreak. Moaning about a niggling pain in my leg or how no-one had offered me a decent hot drink in months.

So, let's play to my strengths. I offer you:

Reasons to be stressful, part 1

1) It's all very well having fancy-ass lights, but not if you can't get replacement bulbs for any of them. Our kitchen is increasingly descending into gloom. And the Black and Blum reading light looks downright alarming without a head.

2) My incomparably marvellous chocolate brownie recipe, by Bill Granger, seems to be broken. It has turned from a wonderful and delicious thing into an overly sugary affair which bursts over the side of the tin.

3) Watching the last fish die, slowly and painfully, was tragic enough (we couldn't bring ourselves to just flush it), and I'm glad that its final torment is over, but the empty tank is FREAKING ME OUT.

4) I've been to Waterstones, and can't bring myself to buy any of the Orange Prize shortlisted books. I had such good intentions, till I started reading the blurbs. Alzheimers. Death. Bombing. Death in penury. Alcoholism. Death. Maybe I need to turn into my mother, and start reading Terry Pratchett all the time.

5) The Littlest Latte's swimming instructor is planning to come off the poolside next lesson and get into the pool with us. A handsome young man in a wet shirt - I may have to be stretchered off. And then who will drive the children home?

11 comments:

  1. We have a dying fish in the kitchen. Fortunately it's only a betta, which could happily live in an ashtray, so there will be no empty tank. Just a filthy plastic bowl. *shudder*

    And my own mother only reads, and I quote her description here, "happy farm stories". I think she's read ... maybe five books. Ever. Because that's all the happy farm stories there are IN THE WORLD.

    ReplyDelete
  2. At least you don't have head lice at your house. Not that we do. It just popped into my, um, head.

    ReplyDelete
  3. But moaning makes for a much more humorous post, no? Love it.

    ReplyDelete
  4. If you stopped moaning, the world would be a much sadder place.

    You owe it to us to keep it up.

    ReplyDelete
  5. if you need to moan, then it's good to moan eloquently!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Agree re moaning eloquently! No-one moans as interestingly as you!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Ah! Now then, I went to a book reading this morning by Khamila Shamsie (Burnt Shadows). It was nothing short of stunning. She had a roomful of women veering from laughter to the verge of tears in a few short minutes. Needless to say, I have bought the book. I'll let you know how I get on!

    (Oh, and your views on Astrid and Veronika have cheered me, because alreadyn I share many of them and am not all that far in ...)

    ReplyDelete
  8. I am totally distracted by the image of the young man in a wet shirt. Might he not catch a chill?

    ReplyDelete
  9. We are mourning a fish massacre ourselves - my husband bought two beautiful Cichlids and put them in with the goldfish who proceeded to chew two of the goldfish to death. Ho hum you live and learn.

    ReplyDelete
  10. The swimming instructor sounds slightly like a blessing. And you were doing so well with the other gripes.

    Minus 5 points for that, I'm afraid.

    ReplyDelete
  11. I keep wanting to leave a comment but like the firemans hose i recently wrote about, I just cant get my brain past the young man in wet t-shirt .. I am on a virtual stretcher with you.

    Hope you have a lovely weekend!

    x

    ReplyDelete

I love comments. I always try to respond - either here in the commentbox or by email if Blogger gives me your email address.

Thanks for visiting!