Jan 23 2013
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Media

That Annoys You? Oh Really?

I was quite happily waiting at the doctor’s surgery for my monthly blood test yesterday, when I picked up a newspaper. There was a full-page article devoted to things that ‘make women seethe.’

Interest piqued, I read further, expecting to see examples such as schools still closed since last Thursday, the shocking price of petrol or the lies men tell on dating websites (and the 10-year-old photos they post up). Well. Oh, to have a life where stepping on Lego or forgetting to turn the dishwasher on was all that made me curse.

Apparently, the following everyday annoyances can make a woman rage:

  • Misjudging kettle water levels
  • Getting an itchy nose while washing up
  • Useless ribbon loops sewn into clothes
  • When the wind blows your hair into your lipgloss
  • Getting a full bag out of a pedal bin
  • Catching your sleeve on a door handle

Well, excuse me if I don’t rush over with tea and sympathy. I also object to the misogynistic tone of the article, which places women fully in the ‘helpless, silly people’ category, where all we worry about is not being able to pull our wellies off or how to deal with tangled wire coat hangers. Let’s leave the serious issues to the men, don’t worry your pretty little head, there’s a good girl, eh?  This may as well be journalism from the 1950’s.

Can you imagine a similar article, yet written about men? Would men really rage about scratchy clothes labels, a tissue in the wash or needing to drain a ‘no drain’ tuna can?

Anyway, in the interest of balance, here’s my MS list of everyday things that make me seethe:

  • People thinking I am drunk after half a glass of wine
  • My robot, wonky walk when my legs won’t work properly
  • Waking up half-blind
  • Tripping over my own feet. Repeatedly.
  • Reaching for my coffee cup and knocking it over
  • Not being able to wear high heels
  • Trying to explain fatigue for the zillionth time

I’d better stop there. I could go on. And on. But I just got lemon juice in my eye and I am seriously raging…..

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Jan 22 2013
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Daily Life

For Sale: One Cat

Our recent snowpocalypse has meant I have been forced to endure my cat’s company for far longer than is natural. For the last four days, I have only ventured out the house to buy food, have a quick coffee with friends and check in on my mum, trekking through the snow and back with my solitary ski pole.

The rest of the time, I have stayed at home. Or the cat’s home, as she would have you believe. She’s been skulking around, eyeing me suspiciously and virtually handing me my keys and pointing to the front door.

Yesterday was the final straw. I ran out of Felix cat food and bought in own-brand from Sainsbury’s. She is now on hunger strike, roaming the living room in protest, getting under my feet – not a great idea with foot drop. She randomly pounces on her toy mouse, just when I’ve got a hot drink in my hand. She leaps for the windowsill and falls off. She skids across the floor.

I have a lovely duvet tucked behind my sofa, which I bring out to snuggle under when I’m watching telly, waiting for the heating to kick in. The cat paces the room and as soon as I get up, she’s there, sprawled out, smug grin on her face before she proceeds to wash her bits loudly.

I took pity on her yesterday (why?). I was in one of those bargain stores and found a little cat bed for a fiver. I’ve recently bought a small stove for the living room and thought, how sweet, wouldn’t it be nice to see her in front of the fire, like a normal cat? So I bought it, took it home, wrapped her special blanket round it and popped it in front of the fire. Perfect.

She hasn’t been near it. As I write this at my desk, she is on my duvet, on my sofa, executing an intricate yoga move, trying to clean her neck. Don’t get me wrong, I love her to pieces, but I think we have spent too much time together. I am in danger of turning into a ranting, solitary loony who can only talk about her cat.

Tomorrow, it will be different. I am re-engaging in normal life again. I may just buy her some Felix. If she gets off my duvet….

(This is not the first time I’ve complained about my cat (tragically). You can read more about her here, in my previous post, I Used To Like My Cat)

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Jan 19 2013
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Daily Life

Not Such a Clever Idea….

Ok, who suggested I should take some ski poles and go out walking in the white stuff?? And it all started so well. At 7am yesterday morning I was doing a little jig in the snow outside my house, the cat glaring at me accusingly from the window. Gloves, hooded jacket and ski poles were primed and ready to go, so I had a bit of a quick trial run, eventually deciding I looked less like a weirdo with just the one.

The Teenager was busy messaging his friends while I got myself loaded up. Keys, check. Mobile, check. Wallet, check. Huge ruck-sack, check. Emergency ration biscuits. Only joking. I headed off, feeling a bit silly with the ski pole, especially when someone yelled, ‘oi, you lost one!’ at me from the other side of the road. So far so good though.

I trekked up to the shops, feeling intrepid and adventurous and soon got into a semi-comfortable stride. Any foot drop I had was hidden by the snow. I got to the supermarket, but snowpocalypse had already struck. There was no bread, no potatoes, not much meat and hardly any fruit left. The shelves had been stripped bare. I picked up some grotty mushrooms, half-price bacon, Monster Munch crisps and a tub of double cream (no idea why, seemed a good idea).

After a quick coffee pit-stop, I trekked up the hill to my mum’s with a newspaper, another coffee, then over to Tom, the elderly guy I check in on. Stopped for a tea and a chat, then trekked back up to the shops to meet a friend for coffee, eventually getting home four hours after I set off. My cheeks were ablaze with redness, I felt exhilarated and generally rather fab. Until I took my welly boots off and crumpled in a heap in the hall.

Excruciating cramp in my legs, a sore hand from gripping my ski pole and a huge wave of tiredness sent me straight to my sofa. My legs and feet are still tingling and buzzing. Think I got a bit carried away. Note to self – perhaps take it a bit easier in the snow next time…

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Jan 18 2013
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Daily Life

Snow Joke…

It’s finally here. The white stuff is falling from the sky and there’s a lot of it. The Teenager is flapping around trying to find his gloves so he can make snowballs and I doubt school will be open today.

Last week when the promised snow failed to materialise, he was nonchalant. ‘Don’t care. Too old for snowballs anyway. D’uh. Snow’s for kids.’ Hmm. That’s why he rushed to the window every morning and turned away each time with a sad little face.

The news is on and this is obviously a national crisis. Who would’ve thought it – snow in Winter? They have cold-looking reporters in padded jackets stationed across the country, sending live and ‘exclusive’ reports from gritting depots, fields of snow and um, gritting depots. My friend texted me yesterday, saying people were panic-buying petrol, there was no bread or milk left in the supermarket and the roads were jammed. Guess we’ll be having Pot Noodles and biscuits for lunch then.

This is pretty bad timing for me though. After seeing the optician, I was all booked in with the MS rapid access clinic, but it was cancelled an hour later due to the forecast snow. So I will use the  time to try out my Nordic walking poles. I’ve already got my wellies ready and a backpack to put my shopping in. I am going to look ridiculously stupid, but no one cares in the snow. Hopefully.

Luckily, I am not back in work til next week so I am going to spend this time sorting out my university books and look over my notes to remind myself how to write an impressive essay. It’s been a while. I have a pot full of brand new pens and highlighters, the printer is full of ink and I even have little sticky notes in four different colours to mark ‘interesting and informative’ points in my books. All I need now is for my rusty brain to click in to gear and I’ll be fine.

So, I’m off to dig out the thermals, check the ski poles and head off to the shops as soon as I’m ready. I may be some time….

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Jan 17 2013
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Work and Studying

Backseat Van Driver

Still panicking about wonky eye, still waking up half-blind, stumbling my way to the bathroom. But luckily I had my work site visit yesterday, where we trundled 40-odd miles down the road to visit a possible job.

We stopped off in Starbucks for a caffeine refuel and catch-up before setting off. Boy, I needed that caffeine and I wish I’d had that chocolate croissant for the sugar before I got back in the van.

The boss drives his van like an absolute maniac.  He is a man possessed. You know all those jokes about ‘white van man’? All true.

‘Are you going to stop?’

‘Why?’

‘Um, it’s a red light.’

‘Oh, yeah.’

‘Can you slow down?’

‘Why?’

‘Scared.’

‘Can you pull back from that little old lady?’

‘Why?’

And so on, all the way there. Down the motorway, along winding roads and hairpin bends. He is a nutter. So much for my relaxing day trip. Anyway, we got there in one piece, legs wobbling and looked around the job. Beautiful area and it was lovely to be out in the countryside. A couple of hours later and we were back in the van (gulp) and drove home.

I am now officially a back-seat van driver. Just out of curiosity, I had a look at all the other vans on the motorway. Most were going faster than us and most of the drivers were eating, talking on the phone and joshing with their labourer all at the same time, so maybe the boss wasn’t all that bad.

We popped in to another quote before I was dropped off home and I passed the time waiting in the van by flicking through a builder supplies catalogue. I’ve picked out the waterproof jacket I want and a possible new pair of boots (sadly only in grey or black). I’m toying with the idea of a reflective vest. The boss just sighed when I told him.

I’m not really getting the hang of this builder look, am I? When I worked last weekend, I put my pile of newspapers on the dashboard before we drove to the job. I get the feeling he wasn’t very impressed to have his usual Sun replaced with the Guardian and Times or when I pulled out my lippy for a quick touch-up…

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