Write a book they say...you ought to write a book you know...have you thought of writing a book?
I've made three attempts to write a feckin' blog and have been endlessly interrupted by either the dogs wanting to come in or wanting to go out or just barking at nothing in particular and then Himself comes indoors and sits almost, but not quite behind me, and slurps while drinking a cup of tea and tells me interesting morsels like...Marian's just had some oil delivered...bully for Marian I say...Didn't know they had oil over there he says...in the slightly aggrieved tones of one who has somehow been the last to know an item of juicy gossip...
However...when it comes to me needing to seriously discuss delving into the bank account to buy a settee I turn round and find Himself has his earphones plugged into his ears and hasn't heard a word I've said for the past half hour...and I've been flashing up pictures of the 'ideal settee' in a dozen different colours with a lumbar cushion twenty € extra and he hasn't so much as glanced at the feckin' screen...
It was odd how he immediately heard me say I already had one hundred € put aside for other stuff and I'd be willing to swear he heaved a sigh of relief at thinking that'd be a hundred off the cost of the settee then when that wasn't what I'd meant at all...
IKEA have the one I want...it's all squashy and comfy looking and the covers come off and can go in the washing machine but the bright scarlet one is cheaper than the dark blue one and the white covers are seriously cheap and I was wondering whether to get the white and then dye the covers...they deliver settees and easy chairs now and you can pay on-line. I know we'll end up going to some crappy furniture warehouse tucked away on a grimy industrial estate where some over eager sales person will direct us to the faux leather...the sort that sticks to the back of your legs and makes disgusting noises when you sit down.
And the sales person will say these are the most popular range and I'll sigh and roll my eyes and say that is precisely why I don't want one and then he'll sigh and lead me over to an over- stuffed object in some ghastly colour that you wouldn't be seen dead sitting on and say this is in the budget range and his mobile 'phone will ring and he'll drift away and leave us to it.
Of course what I ought to do is simply go ahead and buy the navy blue squashy three seater settee from IKEA...minus the matching lumbar cushion...'cos I don't need that seeing as we have our own cushions...and just wait for a nice man to deliver it and then say ...oh goody...the new settee is here.
But the long ingrained habit of including Himself in major decisions...like buying a new settee...whether he is interested or not, is a difficult one to break. It's not as though he won't sit on it...'cos he will. In fact he'll probably spend longer on it than I will, seeing as I go to bed early.
Of course the actual colour doesn't matter much seeing as I'll have to smother it in throws 'cos the dogs will be leaping all over it...the white one might be pushing it though especially when one comes in with particularly muddy paws...
I wish I didn't dither so much...there was a time in the far distant past when I never dithered, not even a brief dither, decided upon something and did it. And now I dither about and waste time dithering and end up not doing whatever it was in the first place because I've managed to dither myself out of it...