Wow! Today I got out in the fresh air and it took less than a minute for me to realise that we are not really meant to be indoor creatures. Well, at least not exclusively.
This shouldn’t really have been such a startling revelation, but as I find myself sliding deeper and deeper into work mode, even my Tree looks a bit fuzzy some mornings.
Help me! Please don’t let me be assimilated by the Toad-People!
It was such a gorgeous morning and despite concerns that my ‘productivity schedule’ would be dangerously compromised by this indulgence, I walked The Little Perfect One up to Doreen’s. It’s about a 40 minute round trip, through winding walled paths, across the narrow old streets in the heart of the village and then finally weaving around the back of the allotments.
On my way back I passed Sonja’s house and I couldn’t help feeling both a touch of sadness and a twinge of anger. She’s just not the friend she used to be and I really don’t know why.
It’s strange, as I didn’t even like her at first. I thought she was a meddlesome nuisance in ridiculous heels. However, it turned out that she is rather batty and terribly kind. Sonja is also that wonderful sort of funny; she is hilarious when she intends to be and just hysterical when she doesn’t.
She is a good laugh, but she can also be a right pain and I think when you make allowances for people and they still end up being odd, well, it’s all a bit worse.
We’ve spent over two years now trying to organise dinner and every time she has cancelled at the last minute. Of course there is always a reason for it. Once it was a stomach bug, another time there was a poorly cat, then it was a stranded daughter, a plumbing issue, a broken gate, a missing key, a grumpy husband and most recently ‘women’s problems.’ Didn’t that phrase die out with the Victorians? No, wait, that was female hysteria... but it certainly hasn’t been used for about 50 years, surely?
I know that people change, people move on and people have all sorts of crap in their lives that sometimes makes it difficult for them to even notice anyone else.
What I don’t understand is why she keeps trying to make a date. I mean, if you don’t have time or you simply don’t want to, then don’t.
I remember as I was leaving university there was a frantic rush to swap addresses with everyone you’d ever...well, been at university with. I extended pad and pen to a girl I was actually quite friendly with.
‘What’s the point?’, she said smiling, ‘you won’t write and I’m pretty sure that I won’t’
It felt like someone had very publically thrown a large grapefruit at me. I shuffled away awkwardly, feeling slightly winded and red. It was a little unpleasant, but it didn’t last and actually she was right.
Sonja wouldn’t ever say anything like that. She’s blunt (or perhaps clumsy), but oddly not very direct. I’ve tried to ask her if everything is OK, but if it isn’t, she’s just not sharing.
This isn’t a problem that’s weighing on me or causing me any great distress, but it’s an occasional niggle. I go to that stupid place sometimes where I am running through everything I’ve said or done and trying to unravel the great mystery of ‘what did I do wrong?’
It’s a waste of time that I don’t have to squander and I shouldn’t do it. The problem is that sometimes re-playing yesterday is dangerously addictive. It was a powerful weapon of the Seven Bitches, the screaming Groundhog Day grenade.
Even now I’m doing it, ‘perhaps she’s heard the rumour behind the Seven Bitches. Perhaps that’s why she’s being funny?’
I know it’s nonsense, but it’s that sort of lingering nonsense that clings to your upholstery. Just as you’ve sat down to watch a great film it’s there, getting up your nose.
I hate not knowing something, that’s the major irritation. Listen Sonja, drop the pretence and if you really can’t be bothered, just say so! I will be perfectly fine about it. In fact, it would be so much better.
Oh, who am I kidding? I would be offended either way. Unfortunately it’s just who I am. I have the memory of an elephant and the skin of a butterfly.
Of course I’ve tried to toughen up over the years, but I’ve never really cracked it. I think like most people I’ve just managed to get a bit better at hiding my feelings...but not much.
Whatever you say about Sonja, her timing is impeccable. She has just sent me a text – ‘How’s u? REALLY must catch up soon. Xx’
Mwah! Mwah!
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