I have a bag packed - new jim-jams! I haven't owned such things since I was about 15, I do own two rather fine Victorian-style white cotton nightdresses, but it seems that these will be unsuitable as they will rather restrict access to the boob area and the bit where the drains will be sticking out... so finest supermarket jim-jams with a little vest top with stringy straps - the fetching sports bra will spoil the effect but what the heck, I will have to keep my dressing gown on. Bearing in mind that I am a) bald with no eyebrows b) at least a stone heavier than I should be and c) having a socking great lump ripped out of my boob, I figure that fashion is low on the priority list today.
Dear Husband went off in the car this morning to pay a short visit to his old employers, where he's worked odd days over the last however-long since he left there - he never had a P45 as he never officially left, so his new employers can't get a tax code for him. The lady he spoke to on the phone seemed to think that if they gave him a P45 he couldn't then work part time for them... However, once he got to talk to the lady who knew, she gave him a P46 to fill in and give to the new boss and all is hunky dory again. However, in the meantime he got talking to someone, then went and lent a hand with a problem somewhere else, then bumped into someone he hadn't seen for a bit... in short, "I'll be home lunchtime-ish" turned into "Just leaving now and will pop and do a little job on the way home" at about 3.15... and it's about 45 minutes drive without any little jobs... This turned the normally mild-mannered bald half of this marriage into the screaming harridan bitch from Hell! I had not only got extra soup out of the freezer so that there was enough for two - none of which was going to be eaten as it was far too late in the day to start having lunch when we're going to have supper at 6.30 - but I as I was waiting for him to get home before I had mine I hadn't actually had anything to eat at all since a slice of bread at 8am, so I was pretty ratty to start with. Add to this that he'd gone off in my car leaving me with no way to get to the gym or the library, and probably wouldn't be back in time to get to the library which shuts at 5 on Fridays. Oh, and the tiny issue that I have to go into hospital for surgery under a general anaesthetic at 7am, and that I am actually quite nervous about this, I don't like being made unconscious, it frightens me something rotten, and I had rather hoped that he'd be around to spend the day with me (not to mention helping me rearrange the furniture in my office so I will have room to set the sewing machine up so I can amuse myself with that next week) and instead he'd spent the whole @*%@** day with his @*%@** mates!!!
When I called him back and asked him to try and get back before 5 so I could at least get some books to take to the hospital with me, he pointed out that the 2CV was sat on the drive and the keys were there (in his shoe) (no, I don't know why he keeps his car keys in his shoe either) if I wanted to use it. In truth I didn't as I haven't driven the 2CV for ages and it takes me ages to get the seat sorted out so I can see over the steering wheel (I am only little!), so he said that he would do his best to get back in time. Nevertheless, I was pretty hacked off and ran around the house ranting about the fact that I had no books (apart from the thousand or so on the bookshelf), that I hadn't been to the gym, that we never go anywhere on our own and our social life consists of going to the pub with his mate and having Sunday lunch with his family, and that (worst thing of all) HE WASN'T HERE!!!!!
I knew that I was being unreasonable and very silly, but things get that way when stress gets stacked up, and eventually it has to blow out somewhere. After I had finished slamming things around and banging cupboard doors all over the place (sorry neighbours!) my eyes (and fingers) landed on the bottle of Rescue Remedy, and calm and common sense returned in some small measure. I did the washing up, ran a bath and had a little weep with frustration. True to his word he was back on the stroke of 4, I have no idea how he managed to get back that quickly - he drove me to the library and back and apologised profusely for not being back for lunch. Poor thing, he takes all the flak when I get screwed up and he bears it all stoically (is that a real word?). I don't know quite what I would do without him, which is possibly why I get all bent out of shape when he doesn't appear when he says he's going to.
Anyway, I am calm (ish) now and I have got myself pretty much organised for tomorrow - just need to throw the laptop into its bag and I will be there. If his parents are joining us for supper then I can guilt-trip them into driving so I can get a glass of pinot grigio, which will be nice. I can eat and drink until midnight, and have water until 5am, so at least I don't have to sit around fasting all day. I knew there had to be some advantage to being first on the list and booked in for theatre at 8am!
Next update will hopefully be tomorrow afternoon some time, when I should be lump-free and thus a giant leap closer to the edge of the big dark scary forest... fingers crossed!
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