Oh god. Thank goodness I'm a self-employed introvert who isn't invited to any Christmas parties because I literally don't think I can leave the house in this state. I have one of these (ew, ew and EW) and a massive cold sore and I look .. ugh. I look like a comedy peasant in an episode of Horrible Histories, covered in buboes. My self-esteem is at rock bottom, I cannot wear any make up to cover up the horror, the internet seems to suggest I may have this eye deformity for anything up to TWO YEARS and I am rather weepy.
After much superstitious peasant prevarication and rubbing the affliction with toad mucus, I finally resorted to the emergency doctor yesterday. This was not an unqualified success. He arrived, bustled in and said "c'est pour ta maman?" (is it for your mum). Er, non? Then he told me he had a magical remedy I couldn't tell anyone about that would save me from surgery. On further enquiry this remedy proved to be 4 homeopathic powders
"Is there any alternative?" I asked delicately. "ONLY SURGERY." He said he had cured 23 people with this remedy. Then he started talking about scientology and his hobby of writing 20 page letters rectifying errors in scientific journalism. He also tutoied me in a disturbingly intimate fashion throughout as if I was his teenage niece. €38 well spent, then ("you should have paid him with a tiny coin in a glass of water," said my friend Tara, which made me laugh). I can't quite believe he was actually a doctor. Perhaps I'm on some kind of Belgian Noel Edmonds style prank show.
Last night, the children finally noticed my facial deformity (I have not been being specially stoic about it, but they filter out my complaints highly effectively). After staring in fascinated horror for a while, L said "you're like.. what's his name? The super hero? The red one?" A lengthy Google marathon enabled him to establish that he meant Hellboy:
This is broadly accurate.
The youngest said cheerily, as he headed off to bed "perhaps you will perish!" Perhaps I will, you thankless wretch, then who will subsidise your Rubik's cube nerd-habit?
It hasn't been a great week - I have barely left the house, the weather is shite, eldest son is in permanent residence on the sofa and will remain there next week because the teachers are "marking" and Thursday brought my most disastrous riding lesson since my 2010 accident. It was not because anything happened really, but because the horse - totally untypically - was really spooky and I was on my own at the start and took massive fright and believed death or catastrophic accident was imminent, so I got off and stood there feeling like a dick (one of those Terrifying Horse Women arrived in the meantime and whirled around using her whip extensively, which made my horse freak out even more). When the teacher arrived, I spent half an hour making it 10000% worse with my tears and terror and generally winding the horse up and both of us ended up in a spasm of stupidity and freaked-out ness. I'm so determined not to give up but oh god, it's an expensive half hour of rigid fright at the moment. I am conscious any complaint relating to horse riding comes firmly under the bourgeois tragedy heading but it is my only extra-curricular activity and if I can't do that any more, I dunno. I'll just go full hermit.
Sorry, this is just an existential wail, things are fine really (certainly more fine than my neighbour who has endured, in the last year: lupus, breast cancer, a burglary the insurance company won't pay for and the death of her much loved cat). Let me redress the balance:
- We have put up The Tree today, it is as garish and overladen as usual but it is mighty.
- I also managed to untangle the terminally tangled lights which have been out of commission for about three years due to their huge knot and it was the most satisfying sensation imaginable. I felt briefly superhuman.
- I went to the pharmacy in despair after the emergency doctor yesterday and they were lovely and gave me free soap and the nice girl said "I barely noticed! It's hidden behind your glasses and your fringe!"
- When I finish this, I am going to get into the bath with a cup of tea and some Epsom salts and Cold Comfort Farm, which is my Christmas re-read for this year.
- M introduced me to the Facebook feed of the Elephant Valley Project and it is extremely conducive to happiness.
- I'm enjoying the birds in the garden at the moment (jesus, I sound 800 years old), particularly the two crows who are working, possibly in tandem, possibly in competition, unclear, to try to untie the bag of peanuts and carry it away. They managed to get it onto the ground earlier this week but failed at the last hurdle. The chickens, who are puffed up with outrage at most birds in the garden and tend to chase them, stay very still and quiet around the crows who are giant and bad-ass.
- L has just sent me an email headed "IT'S CRISTHMAAAAAAAAASSSS" (sic) containing 22 jpegs of animals and the message "this is my cristhmas list". There is a lot of this kind of thing at the moment.
- I have not actually perished.
60% Facial affliction
20% weeping (of which 5% self-pity, 10% seasonal emotions/nostalgia/etc)
6% Irate someone ate my concealed half cookie
4% Very ready for wine (that's a lie, I'm 100% ready for wine).
How was your weekend?