Reflections on the puddle of life

A Day in the Life of the Fifth Element - Monday 3rd March 2008

4:55 – wake up to the sound of clattering in the bedroom. Look over and find the source of the clattering in the shape of a curly haired four year old. "What’s the matter?" I ask, "I want someone to tuck me up" she replies. Grr. Child is frog marched back to bed under order not to move again unless it’s to go to the toilet, or the house is on fire or some other similar disaster.

6:50 – am now up and getting ready for work. I leave the house in 5 minutes and yet, in that time, I must locate and successfully put on a pair of tights without holes. Talk about mission impossible. I’m on my third pair already. These have holes in the toes but I manage to get them on without any further rips or tears, yea-ha, we’re in business!

7:15 – at the train station. It’s perishingly cold, there’s a hint of sleet in the air even though I know it will not turn to snow. It never snows where I live. Despite the adverse weather conditions, and against all expectations, the train arrives on time breaking an unblemished record of lateness. The day is starting to look up. As usual when I’m on the train I find myself looking at the clouds. Today the sky is a chilly shade of blue, and the clouds are gathering, masquerading as snow clouds. Part way into the journey I spot a particularly interesting cloud formation – time to get the phone out and take some piccies. As usual this singles me out as the weird person on the train but I’m used to this mantle, and at least it means that the real weirdos leave me alone. Here’s one of them (apologies about the quality - it's a phone, not a Nikkon):

I tried to capture a formation of pylons I’ve been eying up since before Christmas, but the angle is wrong and I can’t seem to fit them all in one frame.

Oh well. I’m listening to The White Stripes on my iPod this morning, which sets the tone for the rest of the day. I find my self humming ”Little Ghost, little ghost, one I’m scared of the most. Can you scare me up a little bit of love...”. Imagine the looks. Find myself wondering why the word filth is so much more loaded than dirt. Language is a strange thing.

8:03am – outside the train station I stand on a loose paving stone. Now my one pair of sound tights are covered in muddy splashes. I hate tights. Every cash machine I pass is out of cash. I have £1 to my name. Good job it’s bacon butties for 99p day in the canteen. Pass an advert for the latest McDonalds breakfast, headed up with the banner A Moveable Feast and a picture of something the shape and colour of egg, the colour of bacon, and something unidentifiable, wrapped in a flour tortilla wrap. Hemingway must be turning in his grave.

8:10 – in work. Logon the computer which takes about 5 minutes to load up. Go get cup of tea. Try to organise desk. This involves moving files from one pile to another pile. The pile on my left is the work I need to get through today. There are 7 files there. I hazard a guess that by the end of the day 3 of them will still be there. Open my e-mail. I have 5 new messages, all urgent. Cheer myself up by flicking through the weekend’s entries of my George W Bushism’s desk calendar. This was my favourite entry of the 3

”When I was coming up, it was a dangerous world, and you knew exactly who they were. It was us versus them, and it was clear who them was. Today we are not so sure who the they are, but we know they’re there.”

Genius.

8:35 – forgot that my workplace introduced a new ‘recycling’ policy last week. This means I no longer have a bin. Peel used teabag off the floor and deposit in the correct receptacle.

11:20 – of the 7 files in my ‘urgent pile’ 7 are still there. I’ve been auditing this morning which, on the whole, I don’t mind but again this process has identified a problem with one particular team member. I now have to consider next steps. This person has been working with us for 4 years now. There’s just no excuse. Nearly lunchtime, thank goodness.

12:30 – back from lunch. Almost committed a near suicidal act of craziness by trying to post a letter to Germany via the great institution which is the post office. Ever hopeful of avoiding the Monday rush I headed out there at 11:30, arrived, took one look at the queue stretching back to the dark heartland of Timbuktu, and left instantly. Guess I’ll post it tomorrow, or better still I could ask my hubby to post it on my behalf (hehehe). Toddled off to M&S and am now the proud owner of 10 pairs of ladder-proof tights. I am now sporting a pair, no holes in the toes, knees, bum or any other area where holes aren’t supposed to be. So what if they’re a colour I’ve never seen on real legs, and they bunch round the ankles like an old lady’s do? Highlight of the trip to M&S was an old guy who was whistling and tap dancing around the store. Had a momentary lapse of willpower when passing Zavvi (formerly Virgin Megastore) – eyed up several movies which looked really interesting. Of all of them I think perhaps one or two might have been in English, the rest were French/Swedish which says a lot about the quality of films being made in Hollywood these days. Thought of my poor hubby and how he suffers with my weird/foreign language films (which is unfair really, they’re always pretty good Amelie, Night of the Sunflowers, and Pans Labyrinth being cases in point) and put them all back. Really wanted to buy them though, and they were on offer 5 for £30 which is a total bargain. Instead I bought the Lily Allen CD, then realised when I got back to the office that actually it was Kate Nash that I wanted. Ho hum, at least it was only £5. Am now tucking into my lunch of couscous with tikka chicken and roasted vegetables, an apple, banana, and orange juice. How healthy am I?!

13:00 sent my hubby an e-mail telling him about the movies I didn’t buy, and how this evidences the depth of my love for him. Hubby e-mails back “Well if you really want to know what love is then go and buy the films and I'll sit with you and watch them with you.”. Sounds like a statement just asking to be put to the test. Add Zavvi to the list of places to go tomorrow. List is now 1) Post Office and 2) Zavvi to buy weird foreign films...oh, and the Kate Nash CD.

13:30 just realised I can’t do either of the things on my list tomorrow, as I’ve arranged to go for lunch with a work friend. D’oh.

13:50 – my pile of 7 urgent things still has 7 things in it.

14:50 – still 7 things.

15:35 – Now 5, but I’m leaving at 4pm today. Perhaps my estimate of having just 3 things left was a bit optimistic?

15:50 – now 4, but someone has just added another. That makes it 5. Starting to feel a bit like Bridget Jones. Going home in 10 minutes. No doubt the phone will ring just before I’m about to leave and make me late.

16:45 – on the train, enjoying the sensation of not being out of breath and not struggling to stand up on quivering legs due to the breakneck dash which gets me from work to station in a little under 10 minutes. Get on the train which smells of puke and Burger King. Not very pleasant. As we leave the city I can see the rain before it arrives, it appears as a kind of shading against the more defined clouds. It reminds me of a phrase in the book I’m currently reading The Book Thief by Markus Zusak "Rain, like grey pencil shavings". Sure enough the rain arrives though it is less heavy than the clouds implied. I read a little, but mainly watch the sky, the scenery passing which changes from urban, to industrial, to rural in the space of moments. It occurred to me that, with a few carefully chosen pictures, I could make you believe that my environment was whatever I wanted it to be.

17:25 – arrive back at my home town. The sky tells a story with it’s colour, see – this is the sky in one direction

and the other

I don’t need to tell you what this means.

17:40 – arrive home, finally. There is no ‘Sold’ sign outside my door, and in the post I’ve received another ‘nearly an acceptance’ letter from a magazine I’ve been trying to get published in. Promising news though – if I make a couple of very minor amendments to Sudden Yellow Clouds and Apple Pie Madness then they’ll be accepted. There are also another couple of poems which are under consideration. This, for a new poet, is good news. Dinner is Jacket Potato with cheese and beans, which is very yummy indeed. The kids are making Pokemon masks and eating my Mother’s Day chocolates. The tights are off at the first available opportunity but my feet smell (I walk a lot, what can I say!) which the kids take great pleasure in telling me. According to my daughter I smell of 'poo'. Nice. That’s love for you.

18:25 - the kids are lay on the floor in the hallway. I catch snatches of conversation as I pass. I hear words like Pikachu, Pokeball and evolved coming especially from my son. I wonder if I should worry that he's losing touch with reality. I wonder if I'm the right person to be asking that question.

18:40 - am surfing Lit-net

19:30 – time to get the kids ready for bed. As I am hopeless these days with the routine I completely forgot that tonight is ‘non-bath night’, so the bath was half run before my hubby put me straight. My daughter nearly broke her neck getting upstairs so she could be first to pull the plug, and she has since ‘assisted’ with the making of her toast. As you can imagine, her assistance is generally less than helpful, but then she is enthusiastic, and fiercely independent. Tonight she is having cheese & bacon bread toasted, my son is having one unbuttered cream cracker. Guess which one is built like a string bean? They both have milk. A moment ago my husband yelled at my daughter loud enough to make me jump, for wafting her cuddly toy in front of my son just to annoy him. She is now sitting quietly, watching Stargate SG1, probably plotting her revenge. I have added an extra blanket under her under-sheet on her bed to see if this will give her the extra warmth needed to bless me with a full night’s sleep. Fingers crossed. God know I need it!

19:40 - kids are all clean, brushed and in bed. Time to relax.

19:45 – my daughter is out of bed. Apparently she needs a ‘huggle’

19:50 – ha! My hubby seems quite happy with the idea of the foreign/odd films. On Wednesday I will go shopping – I am already drafting up my list which will include, I think The Painted Veil, Junebug, City of Lost Children, Tideland and something else. Already I have ordered My Life as a Dog via Amazon (this was not on offer at Zavvi), though perhaps I should be a little suspicious that my hubby’s sudden interest coincided with a question of whether these films included any nudity?!

19:51 – my daughter is out of bed again. She doesn't like the 'dark' (I'd like to point out at this stage that she has a nightlight on in her room. Light levels are approximated to early evening, or that vague period just after sunrise, not equatable in any way with 'dark'.)

19:53 – my daughter is out of bed. She needs the toilet.

19:59 – and a tissue

20:02 - and a drink

20:05 – apparently her bottom is sore. Cream is applied. Child is frog marched back to bed (again – you see my daughter and frogs appear natural allies!) and informed that she leaves it again on pain of death.

20:15 – finally get chance to give my son a kiss goodnight. He’s been reading Star Wars. Pretty soon he’ll be able to pass Mastermind on the subject of construction of the Death Star. Poor boy, he reads quietly in his room as the raging storm passes in the next one.

20:20 – shower time! Yeay, no more smelly feet (bleugh).

20:45 – happy in my pj's, but it's time for me to log off before my hubby starts to think I’ve died in here.

21:55 - back on line. Realised I have not uploaded my new CD to my iPod. In the time I've been logged off I've watched my hubby play chess against his X-Box, allowed my hubby to put my car in the garage (I forgot - it's sub-zero tonight), read a few poems by Louise Gluck and Jean Sprackland, mused about the possible reasons why I can smell my hair if I tip my head in a certain position - no conclusions yet, thought a bit about the poem I am writing, and generally slobbed about. I am quite tired and it is cold. I will probably go to bed very soon.

22:05 - little bit of supper for me (cheese & bacon bread toasted, one slice - yum!) and a nice glass of milk.

22:35 - in bed. As usual weird discussions ensue. Topic of tonight Was sex always pleasurable, or was this an evolutionary development - discuss.

00:40 - *-&@%?!*>~! (betcha can guess what that's about!)