Today is less buoyant. Jesus, already? I thought I had a few days of cheerful inactivity before I slipped into a decline, but that was before my cognitive faculties started to fail me entirely. In the past 24 hours I have lost the ability to tie a knot in a balloon (I just stared at it, baffled, knowing I should be able to do it, as the small children barracked me) and had a half hour blind spot over the correct direction of the accent on à - and yes, I looked at it on the keyboard again and again, but somehow it just wouldn't translate into the written version. At this rate I'll have forgotten how to dress myself by the weekend and can revert to lying in a stupor, drooling.
It's Wednesday, which isn't helping, I suppose, as gulag closes up at 1 so that everyone can go and indulge in Soviet calisthenics or extra Dutch lessons, and my children can lie around the house looking untidy and helping themselves to biscuits. I have also fallen flat on my arse once already (literal, not figurative) this morning. Fallen leaves, why must you be so .. leafy? This reminds me that whilst in London last week I actually slipped on an actual banana skin, which is the kind of achievement I never imagined I could hope for in my 36th year.
No matter. I am compiling a further list (I am all about the lists. The one I can see from here says: "Invoice, LIGHTBULBS, crème fraîche"). It is a list of things that would assist my current plight (not, in fact, plight at all. Tiny bourgeois tragedy, perhaps).
1. A mantilla. I could answer the door to Seventh Day Adventists and Belgacom, collect the infants from school and queue interminably for saucisson de jambon (a sinister luncheon meat type substance in a jaunty red plastic skin, much beloved of small boys) in the butchers with half of the pensioners in Uccle wearing it. Also, it would hide my doughy face, and I could hiss and mutter behind it happily. No-one would give you shit with a mantilla. (see previous desire for eagle. I still want one, but I worry about the upkeep).
2. A small goat in the garden to keep the grass down and eat the leftovers the dog is too pathetic to bother with. I have more than enough space for a goat. I could probably have two, actually. Then one could get on with methodically destroying everything while I held onto the other one round its goaty neck, sniffing its goaty smell and weeping, as it chewed my mantilla, impassively. I have given a lot of thought to this.
3. Soothing baroque music that gives the illusion of being totally On Top Of Things. Other things the possession of which gives the illusion of being on top of things: candles, rugs, lamps, hoover skillz, non-petrified fruit, plentiful and varied stationery and being able to see more than 20% of the surface of the kitchen table. I have the stationery. Want sellotape? I'm your girl. Want tetanus/toxoplasmosis/impetigo? I am possibly also your girl.
4. A miraculous plumber. I am tired of living in a house that smells of drains. I have tried all your many and varied suggestions. I am beginning to think that the very fabric of the sodding house smells of drains.
4. A moderate private income. Self-explanatory. Enough to go and volunteer for panda petting, at least. Even the prospect of carrying "lots of bamboo" doesn't bother me. I used to muck out stables with actual pleasure, just to get to stand near a horse. I'd do a lot more for a panda. Though frankly, it shouldn't even be necessary. If you ask me, it's about time Animals Express, the pet shop that ethics forgot, started stocking pandas, they are missing a trick (though note who they do have in stock currently. Tempted? It's my birthday soon. Just saying).