Tuesday, 14 January 2014

My village was ransacked by Sakri

Down: 

The end of the children's exams cannot come soon enough. There were ugly scenes tonight regarding the human circulatory system. The word "aorta" can never be uttered in our household again, I fear.

Spent much of the morning trying to deal with the washing machine's latest fit of temper, knee deep in a tepid bog, marvelling at the sheer quantity of water it can contain, like an extremely dull Lady Macbeth.

Over-enthusiastic baby dog in park jumped up spreading mud all over my only decent coat (lovely Maje parka). Yes, don't wear a nice coat to the park, I know, I know. Shut up. My head was turned by the prospect of not looking like a despondent flasher for once.

Continued multiple administrative failures.

Had to turn down a visit to a chocolate maker's workshop.

Weirdly intense anxiety about what should be really quite a manageable task.

Prey to the sin of envy to a significant degree.

Hips have seized up after ill-advised dancing to 1980s ska classics in heels at a wedding this weekend. Can no longer bend down without guttural, rasping, resentful groan, in the manner of the camels of Petra.

Some child has hijacked my phone so that it no longer gives me any useful information or connects to email, but only sends me cryptic messages like "your village was ransacked by Sakri!". I have shouted.

Up: 

Delicious free lunch and reviewing a nice hotel tonight (clean sheets, plump pillows, tiny shower gels, one of those tiny Polly Pocket kettles with eccentrically flavoured teabags and, unlike my own gracious home, a functioning bath).

F said nice things about the ghastly book proposal. I don't believe her, obviously, but it's better than an awkward silence because she couldn't think of anything at all to say.

Attended jolly event with champagne and tiny snacks and people to stare at tonight at which, unlike last Thursday's jolly event with champagne and tiny snacks, I was NOT the one who dropped 7 canap├ęs on an elegant man's foot.

May be slightly drunk, but this has significantly attenuated my anxiety about the manageable task (oh god, tomorrow is going to be dreadful, isn't it).


A picture:


Is this a (i) date (ii) interview (iii) the start of an ugly fist fight or (iv) other (please state in full)?

14 comments:

Lucie Ruddock said...

I love you & your blog. You make me feel normal ;-)

Anonymous said...

Let's call it 'Departure'.

Jenny said...

He needs help undoing his cuff links so that he can go to bed.

Mystica said...

I love this post. I giggled from beginning to end. More please. Am in the throes of a plumbing crisis. Public holiday here and the kitchen tap got stuck!

Anonymous said...

Madam, surely you know ska music? I can show you...

H said...

Oh I love that sculpture! The last time I was at Midi they'd moved the tables around and he was all alone without one which I thought was most inconsiderate.

If you need to borrow our washing machine just say.

frau antje said...

The horse is saying, "Voulez-vous un morceau de moi?" Which is kind of unfortunate these days, considering he's a horse.

Now I'm wondering just exactly what it would take to make me feel normal. Acts of god, and traumatic head injuries come to mind.

Waffle said...

Frau Antje - Same. Possibly also demonic possession?

Margaret said...

Did the washing machine leak or did the slop sink back up? One of my friends was just talking about this thing: http://www.amazon.com/WasherWatcher-Laundry-Tub-Overflow-Protector/dp/B00988LNHE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1389832233&sr=8-1&keywords=Washer+Watcher. I don't know if they make them for Belgium.

Juliette Gerstein said...

I love the zebra. I have a great picture of the two of us having a chat!

Melisa said...

You are so great! I know reassuring words from strangers don't help much when you're wracked with self-doubt about something, but your blog is always the first one I read, and I can't wait for your book. All things considered, I much prefer you to Lady Macbeth.

P.S. Is dry cleaning an option for the Maje parka? I recently had a few of my older coats dry cleaned and while it hurt a little to pay for it, it has given them a new lease on life. Or are Belgian dry cleaners like the Belgian post office - not to be trusted?

Anonymous said...

Waffle. Are you on facebook? If so, try playing candy crush saga. I promise you you will forget about everything else.

Autumn said...

I love the statue. He's my favourite thing about Midi station.

Waffle said...

Ha. He doesn't have a massive amount of competition, does he...