Friday, 12 December 2008
What to do next?
As ever, Christmas is rushing upon us. I am not prepared, have not started any cards, and have done little shopping. It is time to get a bloody wriggle on. Later today, perhaps.
When I opened my packages of Christmas cards I found they have crinkled insides, which makes them almost impossible to write any messages on. So I might have to do a general letter for enclosure, but the words won't come in my head, or the ones that do sound very stilted.
I just feel tired right now. Too much to do, although when I analyse this, it is not really so. I am looking forward to the New Year, so I can make a fresh start and hope for a better year. This year was not easy.
I decided to defer sending the letter to the PP until after Christmas, so as not to make waves within the family. Not before Christmas, anyway.
Dr Persiflage is becoming quite forgetful, and it looks as though I will have to handle a number of things which he has done for himself up to now. It is a worry. He needs to decide whether to have a driving test or whether to get a modified licence. He does not drive much now, but likes to have the independence.
Various of his family are visiting shortly, so I need to get organised and think vegetarian food.
At today's Italian class we had animated discussions on visitors from hell. We all had some dreadful stories. My juror mate has just had three weeks of an appallingly selfish couple who spread themselves all over the house, criticised everything, hogged the computer, and then left their credit card behind so that it cost $50 to have it sent to them. The teacher described having her in-laws for a month, who always ate at restaurants when at home, and who then criticised the food provided at her home, were bored by every activity they tried, complained and argued non- stop. It is hard to believe that guests could behave with such discourtesy and lack of consideration.
Then on my return bus trip there was a Pommy girl with an appalling accent and the worst grammar I've heard in years, who bitched non-stop on her mobile phone for the whole 20 minute trip, in all too audible tones, about some perceived insult or injustice. I felt like yelling at her to put a sock in it, but had to content myself with rolling my eyes mentally.
It is good to be home, even if there are Christmas cards to be written.
I am not normally this grumpy.