Friday, 25 November 2011

This is not a good friday.

My fears became reality - Wednesday night I lay awake for hours, unable to sleep. My alarm went off early on Thursday and I turned it off and went back to sleep because my body needed more rest. The getting up early routine would just have to wait a bit longer. When I finally got up I still felt quite drained and achy so had a restful day until about 3ish. By this time I was so stir crazy I decided to go for a walk regardless of how crap I felt.

The local shop is 20 minutes walk away (40 mins round trip) so I knew that even at my slowest I could be back within an hour. The weather seemed ok and I was in no rush. Unfortunately I had forgotten about the local secondary school and as it was just after 3, the pavements were awash with youth. In my healthy days I would have paced around them all but instead was reduced to grannying along whilst gaggles of teenagers loudly sped past me. So this is what old age must feel like.

I made it to the shop and purchased a few treats as a reward for when I finally made it home. It's funny but I have never noticed the lack of benches and places to sit in my neighbourhood but now all I could think of was why on earth no-one had thought to install somewhere I could have a pit stop as I was beginning to feel rather worn out. The journey back was quite a task and I felt like a clockwork toy in need of a key winding. Slower and slower I became and the odd sensation I have at times like this is not so much that my legs are tired, but that they physically cannot go any faster - as if something is holding me back. That wading in mud feeling again. Finally I got back and did actually feel better in body if not in spirit. The best news is that despite the lie-in, it didn't take me too long to get to sleep.

Woke up early this morning and attempted the bus into town to pick up some parcels from the sorting office. Despite me being stuck at home for the last 2 months, Royal Mail have been unable to deliver them to me, largely due to the postman's inability to ring the bloody doorbell.

Sat on a very busy bus I began to regret my decision. All the seats were full and very noisy and I just wanted to go home! Once I got to town, I went to the bank and then to the sorting office. There was a big queue and so I had to stand for a while feeling more and more like I was going to pass out. Eventually got to the counter and waited another age for the guy to come back...... with only one parcel. By this time I was so tired and narky and not very impressed. Turns out he couldn't find the other one and asked for my phone number so they could ring once it was found. I told him they needed to redeliver it as I wasn't happy about having to come all this way again. I couldn't be bothered to explain about the cost of the bus and the fact I wasn't well and the journey had nearly finished me off. He was narky back and so I left almost in tears and headed straight for the bus wanting nothing more than to be safe at home and away from incompetent people.

When I went to get off the bus, the driver started quizzing me about whether I had paid. As I had already shown him my return ticket when I got on the bus, I got a bit confused and defensive as I couldn't work out why he was giving me the third degree. All this in front of a huge queue of people waiting to get on. I grumpily showed him my ticket and it became apparent that he wasn't questioning my honesty, just how much he should charge the waiting passengers as all the other people on the bus were pensioners who had used their bus passes. This put me in even more of a tizz. Due to his incompetence at not knowing how much his fare should be, he had made me look like a pikey fare dodger in front of loads of strangers. After this new bout of crappiness, I couldn't help a tear or two from escaping whilst I walked home. All in all, a day I'd rather forget.

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