Item – OK, so, much advice on medicating my light-weight junkie-slut uterus into stunned and giggly compliance. I feel I should sort my remaining drugs into alphabetical order, experiment and report back. I think I have some Lemsip somewhere as well. Pseudoephedrine’s banned in athletics, so it must be good, yes? *cough* Seriously, thank you all for the advice. Together, we will triumph over the massed forces of pharmacology and recalcitrant useless lumps of hormone-ravaged smooth muscle! Hurrah! I love the internets!
Item – The weather forecast this morning was for cold drizzle. I dressed accordingly. It snowed. The snow settled (in London! I know!). Public transport went into melt-down. I fought my way across town and back, either skidding about in the snow and slush or standing about in wet socks while all the buses that I could possibly need or want bypassed my location entirely. Wet socks are not in the least bit nice, and very chilly.
Item – I cleverly combined an acupuncture appointment (by golly, I’m having a lot of those) with a little light Christmas shopping. Which harshed my post-puncture mellow rather, but needs must as the Baby Jesus drives. Anyway, acupuncture started quite well, despite the fact I shed about fourteen pounds of new-laid snow all over the clinic carpet and left damp patches from my trouser cuffs on the couch. My pulses are doing very nicely, thank you. While doing bits of my back Nice Earrings dropped a pinch of moxa down my trousers, oh, the dignity – I found it later and discovered that moxa doesn’t flush, oops – and some of my acupuncture points uncooperatively refused to produce any distinct or interesting tugging or tingling sensations on first stab and had to be re-stabbed, sometimes re-re-stabbed, but nevertheless I was, I think I mentioned, feeling very mellow.
Item – The mellowness took rather a wallop at the end of the session, when Nice Earrings got muddled up as to when my last miscarriage was (look, she has many fertility patients. I didn’t mind that in the least). I explained, no, I’ve had more than one, and the last one was at the end of October, and she, I think, got flustered, because, I swear, she gave me a prolonged version of the ‘Nature’s Way of Dealing With Mistakes’ speech, complete with an unfortunate metaphor involving frog-spawn and a side-track into ‘So Many Pregnancies Are Lost Before People Even Know They Are There, It’s Only That You Are Paying So Much Attention To It All’. I forbore to mention that mine involved ambulances and hospitals and worried medical practitioners, because I knew it would come out ugly and hostile and this is the woman who stabs me and sets fire to me (never enter and arse-kicking contest with a centipede, as the immortal Terry Pratchett once said) and she is quite sweet, really. No, really. I promise. Quite quite sweet. I think in all honesty she was horribly embarrassed that she’d forgotten my details and sometimes when even the best person is in a pit, they can’t stop digging despite the little inner voice shrieking ‘shut up! Shut up now!’ at them. But it made a bit of a dent in my festive spirit (which has so many dings, dents and orange patches now it looks like a 1970’s Lancia Beta). And I still think it was an odd lapse for her. *sigh*
Item – For maximum oddness, as I was shuffling along the pavements with the crowd, up to my insteps in salty grey slush (or, urban snow, as more wishful thinkers term it), fretting that this was doing nothing whatsoever for my boots (I was right about this. They now have better tide-marks than a bleedin’ estuary. Arse) a man came rushing up to me shouting ‘excuse me!’ in the earnest beaming manner of one who is either trying to sell me to Jesus or give me back a dropped glove. I stopped in case it was the glove, and he said, I kid not thee, ‘I’m sorry, I know this is going to sound completely weird, especially coming from a complete stranger, but I just had to tell you, you have the most beautiful aura. I can tell because I do yoga and stuff, but I’m an accountant really,’ he added, as I gaped at him (well, wouldn’t you?). He proceeded undaunted: ‘I can tell you’ve had a really hard time, really suffered, but your aura is amazing. It’s like a child’s, full of openness and wonder. That’s really special, very few adults keep that. You’re a special person. Do try to stay that way,’ and as I said thank you, feeling really very WTF indeed, he added ‘God bless you,’ about-turned, and made off back the way he’d come. Seriously. An accountant in a nice suit and overcoat chased me down Oxford Street in Christmas rush-hour to tell me my aura was amazing and beautiful.
Item – And then I bought some lip-balm, and waited for the bloody bus for 20 minutes.