Post 496: Tired out but plenty of reasons why.
The time sped away from us like a runaway train and there was no possible way we could get it back.
We could only watch and giggle at the consequences. And because there were no serious issues, we weren’t put up against the wall and shot, so the worst thing was to be plonked beside Auntie Bessie and given a cup of tea to smooth the conversation.
Did we know each other? How did we know the 80-year-old who had dragged us together and then left us to chat?
Oh, what fun.
We had only just made the 11am deadline for the start of the 80-year-old’s house party, and we started a landslide of guests leaving as we hovered near the door at midday. How rude were we?
But we had to get my Darling to the waxers for a quick once-over, as the bookings had clashed — our fault entirely.
Still, we had some fun trying to remember the names we had spoken about during our short conversation, only to forget them a few minutes later in some cases.
Oh, the wonders of our useless ageing brains, which can still remember the registration number of the first motorcycle/car you ever bought — LFG438W — but can’t remember the lady’s name, which she told you only a minute ago… twice.
What are we like?
Anyway, we enjoyed the hour, meeting young Henry and old Arthur, and promised that we would see them again soon.
We said our goodbyes and headed off around the bypass and into the town that seems to be getting smaller despite all the houses being built around it.
But I found a disabled parking space at the Co-op to suit both her and me in our separate pursuits, and we met back at the car a few minutes later.
I had a bag of goodies and she had a swollen lower face and a slightly crooked smile.
Again, I jumped in and headed home.
I wasn’t hungry, as usual, but I did crunch on a Pink Lady and turned that into a brownish core, but otherwise waited for the time to slide around to 2:30pm and the time to go to work.
I left my Darling at home while I braved the traffic on the far side of town.
It was all due to the three-month-long roadworks, which seemed to affect each construction company slightly differently, but affected everybody going in and out of town the most.
I said hi to the lads and, before long, it was 5pm and I was gone.
I followed the increasing procession heading home, away from the town centre, towards their lovely families and a microwave dinner (perhaps), and to sit down in front of the TV.
And before too long, we had discussed the meeting tomorrow with the oncologist, as our eyelids headed together in a joint statement of our feelings of tiredness.
With the bedcovers seemingly the most inviting option in the house, we both scrummed down into sleep of some kind, and our goodnight kiss seemed all too distant as the clock ticked and tocked its monotonous tones throughout the night.
Good night.
Take care.
