It's funny, isn't it?
Life, I mean.
If there was ever any proof of there being a God, and him/her/they/ it, having any sense humor at all, it's life....
For example, after writing yesterday about my 'non-eventful days' and how great life was, for myself and Lucy.
(And Sophia of course).
Well, that all came crashing down in the short space of 24 hours. (ish).
My path of uneventful bliss came to an end, and then some!
The day started with a crisis - which is never good.
Jumping out of bed this morning, around 5:30am - as per usual, and then putting the kettle on for my first cuppa of the day, I wandered over to the fridge for some milk.
And there it all started....
Opening the fridge door slowly, I bent down to take the milk from the fridge...and nothing. I mean zilch. NO MILK!
I slumped onto the kitchen floor, my day in ruins.
But, being the battler that I am, after only 30 minutes or so of sittingon the kitchen floor and feeling sorry for myself, I rose up and faced the problem head on.
I used the UHT we have.
Not one single tear found it's way down my cheeks, as I snicked open the cardboard carton. Not one, I tell ya!
So, semi traumatized, I drank my UHT filled coffee, and tried to put the whole dark episode to the back of my mind.
It wasn't easy, I can tell you - but you can't let a crisis get you down, no matter how HUGE .
I sauntered over onto the balcony, to sip at my UHT tainted brew. ( I was still having some trouble with it , ok?)
I then slid openthe large glass doors to let the morning sun in, and Sophia out.
And..... just as she does every morning, she barrels out of place, smelling for something that only dogs seem to know about.
AND THEN SHE GOT RAN OVER!
My poor doggy yelped loudly with the pain and surprise. Over and over she rolled yelping non stop.
I ran quickly, over to her, worried that she was really hurt.
And she was.
Her pride had taken a severe beating.
The local dog is quite a bit tougher than Sophia, and she beats her up on a regular basis.
We call her 'poo-bear'.
She looks nothing like Pooh bear, but she does have a polar bear shaped head - and she's white.
Sophia normally manages to avoid her charges, and they play together quite happily - but not this morning.
Poo-bear ran over her like Mack truck!
It was very demeaning for little Sophia, and so we consoled each other on the balcony.
Her for being steamrolled, and me for my UHT.
Having such a drama filled start to the day, I found that I couldn't concentrate. My mind was in chaos.
In these circumstances, I often find making some food is a good way to relax and center oneself again, so with
that in mind, and with Sophie very close behind me, I set off to the kitchen.
(I'm thinking of sending her off to doggy counselling sessions, to see if that will help her)
I entered the kitchen, looked over....and...
NO EGGS!.
I repeat...
NO EGGS.
My day, already in total shatters,now just got very much worse.
Pulling my self together, (for Sophies sake if nothing else) , I put my sandals on, to go out and find eggs.
This was another ordeal in itself.
I like to be barefoot for at least five days a week.
I'd worn my sandals yesterday!!, for fucks sake.
I soldiered on regardless, and set off to find some eggs at six o'clock in the morning...
I know that we live right next to a farm - and I know that there, they have, like hundreds of thousands of eggs, and are available to me night or day......but that's not the point.
There were none in the bloody kitchen!
Actually, I think this day might turn out to be so traumatic, (and it's only just started), that I don't think I'm even capable of typing another single word...
My peaceful life is now in total shreds! Shreds, I tell ya!
I'll try my best to make it through till next week...I'll survive...maybe.
BUT...
If there's no ice cold beer for my nightly hour on the balcony - as I watch the sun go down behind the trees, listening to the crickets - I just don't know what will happen to me.
It might just be the proverbial straw, that broke the camels back...
I'll try to stay strong...
