Not anything in particular, like a car or something like that. But the week. This week has pretty much been a write-off.
Well, it started very well, with me getting through lots and lots of work on Monday. I did everything on my list. Monday was a Very Good day.
So was Tuesday. On Tuesday I had my first jolly-day in a long, long time. And it was good and interesting and inspiring and motivating, and all the things a jolly-day should be. However, I was exhausted Tuesday evening, following some slightly stressy driving on 2 new motorways I’m not used to at fairly busy times, but it was another good day.
On Wednesday, the entire morning was spent changing contact details with a lot of finance people – and there are still a few left (tax office, pension company) – the DVLA, and other bitty places, like loyalty card details in stores. I also changed the name from Parkin to Wordsworth with Microsoft as my tracked changes were still coming up by Diane Parkin. And I sorted out my Outlook to receive emails from the new email address. I’m getting far too much spam on the new address and I don’t know (a) how that happened so quickly, and (b) why the spam filters aren’t picking them up and spitting them out. That’s something I still need to look into.
Wednesday afternoon it all started to go downhill. I’d had nagging “shivers” since Sunday, I’d been shattered Tuesday evening, and now a nagging “bit of a throat” was starting to creep in. And with the poet already fending off tonsillitis, what’s the betting he’d shared his germs with me – as ever? (He’s so generous.) I packed up work early and went to the garden centre to get bedding plants, canes, a nozzle for the hose, compost, a new toy for the dog and some herbs. When the poet got home he planted everything up (he hates gardening …) while I made tea.
When I woke up on Thursday I was ordered to stay in bed – I must have looked awful. So I did. And that was Thursday, pretty much, apart from a FB conversation with a friend helping her to pop her Kindle cherry. After a day’s work, the poet came home and did all of my chores before doing some of his own. He emptied the dishwasher and filled it up again, fetched washing in from the line and put it all away, and he did the poo patrol. Then he cut the grass, watered the plants, and made tea. (Did I mention he hates gardening?) He also did the gig list. By the end of the evening he was exhausted too!
But there went pretty much the rest of this week’s best-laid plans. I have time this morning to catch up on a few computer-related things, and the diary (hurrah!), but this afternoon I’m at the dentist (boo!), at the hairdresser, and then we have this week’s shopping to do as we didn’t go last night.
I am feeling better, though, so maybe the rest did me some good. We’ve both still got niggles, but we’re better than we were.
Over the weekend we have Barnsley Live that we’re thinking of tomorrow, or we may get bundled up and I’ll sit in the car while he sits on a water bank fishing. But there’s rain forecast, so we haven’t decided yet. Sunday is Father’s Day, so we’re off to see both of our fathers.
Hopefully next week will be better. Have a great weekend.