I used to write these frequently from the age of 15-22ish, only they were entitled "List of Crap Things" and said crap things were usually related to idiotic men (well, boys) and the fact that I had a hole in my tights and was failing Philosophy or whatever. The idea was that I could tick the items off the list when I'd dealt with them*, thus being able to quantify how much less crappy my life was getting as I went forward. Of course, by that point, I usually had yet another useless bloke on the go to add to the list and an endless stream of wardrobe malfunctions, so it was all a bit pointless. These days, I prefer not to dwell so heavily on the negatives in life, and I realise that I have it pretty good compared to most. However, a number of irksome things have occurred recently, and I felt that this called for a list:
1. Yesterday, Rory got hold of a bottle of lavender oil and sprinkled half of it all over our bedroom. The house now stinks of grannies and we are so 'soothed' by the calming aroma that we're floating around the house with our eyes half closed. It's like Lush have invented a crack den.
2. Rory's toy Cranky Crane from Thomas the Tank Engine appears to have become possessed by evil spirits (not surprising. I've always felt that he has a rather malevolent look on his face) and keeps telling me that I'm a "very reliable engine" in a slight German accent when nobody is near him. I now fear some sort of Thomas & Friends mass murdery thing occurring at Halloween while we're asleep in our beds.
3. John From Next Door has started his yearly campaign of ABH against the local squirrels and was witnessed throwing a wet sock from his washing line at one a couple of days ago. I do fret about the squirrels.
4. Rory is eyeing up the autumnal pot pourri speculatively. This worries me. He ate a handful last year and it never reappeared at the other end. One day he's going to end up having emergency surgery to remove 3 mini pine cones, some sticks and a handful of rose petals from his intestines.
5. There have been no less than three fascia board salesmen knocking on my door this week and two cold calls from other fascia board sales people. I don't even know what a fascia board is. More to the point, I don't care.
6. There's a hole in my tights. Some things never change.
*Have just realised that this may read as if I bumped off my ex boyfriends to 'deal with them'. I did not.