Oh, so that’s the way it’s going to be, today, is it?
Alright. *narrows eyes*
Fed the cats and realised that I’m quite weak. Picking up a box of cat food was a challenge, and required two hands. Annoying, but not unusual or insurmountable.
Last night, I washed my favourite enormously heavy, extraordinarily white bedspread. The idea was to whip it out this morning, stick it on the line, and let it dry in the sun. Except the rinse cycle didn’t complete and the washing machine therefore wouldn’t open. Was it broken? I tried a few different settings and it didn’t respond. Eventually I persuaded it open and dragged out the sopping wet and incredibly heavy (seriously, I have trouble even lifting it) bedspread. Cue soaked kitchen. I folded it as best I could, went out, let down the washing line for it and prepped a peg-free space, hauled the thing outside, put it over the relaxed washing line, and the line broke.
I hauled the bedspread back inside, put a wooden chair in the bath, and have put it over that to at least get some of the water to run off.
By this point I was so annoyed with the universe in general, and everything within a mile radius of me specifically, that there was nothing for it.
I mowed the lawn.
Look. It was stupid. I know it was stupid.
It is a tiny lawn and a very light mower – the job would take you about five minutes and takes me about ten. Two thirds of the way into it: cue legendary amounts of lactic acid in shoulders/biceps/forearms/legs, to the point where (it is finished, I finished it OF COURSE), picking an apple up is just about possible, but keeping hold of it isn’t. Consequently I am now eating a badly bruised apple for breakfast which I’ve had to chase the length of the living room about three times. The cats think I was throwing it at them and aren’t speaking to me.
No hot drinks for me today, then.