Friday, 6 December 2013

It seems I'm not the Messiah after all


It seems I'm not the Messiah after all. I'm just a very naughty girl. Today I chose the path of denial by pretending I wasn't moving home next week. Problem is, I am. Head-in-the-sand syndrome is futile, but while it lasts it's bliss. Today it did the trick. I turned my back on the overwhelming pile of cardboard boxes aching to be filled with glassware and china and tucked in with bubble wrap and soothing tissue paper and I simply ran off.  

Instead I turned to M&S where I assuaged my guilt by buying my mother a feast of cakes, confectionary and flowers and spending a couple of hours with her. This was a holding exercise so I don't have to visit again until after the move which is, by the way, on Friday, 13th.  But why should the number of people at the Last Supper bother me? If I'm not the Messiah I can snap my fingers and laugh in the face of the curse of Friday, 13th. Yet already its influence is in evidence. Steve, the wonderful, tried-and-tested removal man who was going to move me and take care of other plats du jour such as taking unwanted stuff to the tip and reliably rushing hither and thither providing anything I desire, had a car accident on Tuesday and is laid up with broken bones and worse until the new year.  Yet Friday, 13th has also proven to be lucky, though not for poor Steve.  As no-one is keen to move home on that inauspicious day I managed to get a last minute booking with a firm who are highly-recommended, helpful and lovely, but they are not Steve and never could be.

When I left my mother today, I somehow found myself in a shop trying on a glam furry leopard coat.  Reader, I bought it and it felt good.  But now I'm home and facing the music, but it's not "So here it is, Merry Christmas, everybody's having fun" quite yet.  Everything is just as I left it - chaos. I've packed most of the good stuff and feel so disengaged that if I were to leave everything else behind or dump it at the local tip it would make little difference to my life. Tempting.  Walk away and start again might be the way forward.  I swear that is not an avoidance tactic. Neither is this blog.

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