Not sure how much more of this I can take. Everything going wrong; boxes too small for the things that need to go in them, or so big that no one apart from the world's strongest man would be able to lift them once they are full.
Puppy keeps 'helping' by crunching his way through desiccated woodlice and whining to go out at inopportune moments. As I was emptying a cupboard in the kitchen my chocolate bar fell out. In the two seconds it took for it to hit the floor, it managed to unwrap itself in mid-air and land in a scattering of yukky bits that I had thus far failed to sweep up. I don't know what they were, but if Puppy won't eat them, they must be bad.
I almost flung myself into the bits there and then and had a monumental tantrum to rival a three year old's, but Providence came to the rescue and placed a slab of Marzipan in the back of the cupboard, just at the moment prior to giant tantrum. I immediately tore the wrapper open and began to pull off large clumps to shove in my mouth. Solace in Marzipan is a magical thing.
My back is aching from all the bending and tension. I have less than three weeks to sort all this mess out. I cannot see what I have done and what still awaits attention as everything is everywhere and there is nowhere else for it to go. The shed looks nice though, after yesterday's efforts, so at least I can go and stand in there for a few minutes and not want to kill myself.
For the last three weeks I have been trying to find out where the school bus will pick up Pea and H1 from our new house. Pea asked at Reception at school on the first day back. H1 said that was a Really Bad Idea as everyone there is brain-dead (his words not mine) and haven't a clue what they are doing. I am pleased to find he has so much faith in his educational system. Turned out he was right, well almost; they gave Pea the name of a teacher who knows all about the school buses, but so far this particular teacher has failed to materialise, even though we are now into the third week of term. Odd; maybe she is at home sawing through her wrists.
Taking things into her own hands, Pea found a boy in her class who lives at a farm near our new house. He doesn't catch the bus, he said, as it is too far away, so he gets ferried about in a taxi. Oh goody, we thought, common sense tells us that Pea and H1 could catch the same taxi at the same time. I rang the Man In Charge who waffled on incoherently for a bit and eventually told me that MY children will have to walk (or be taken by me) one and a half miles to the nearest bus stop. Pardon? That doesn't make sense. Surely if the council are paying for a taxi to take one young man to school it would be financially beneficial to take three pupils in the same car? Apparently not according to The Man, who said it wasn't up to him as he doesn't make the rules. Oh for goodness sake, this is Very Silly and I am Not Happy. I will keep plugging away at this until I get a proper answer. I wouldn't mind taking them to the bus stop, but I also have to get H2 to school at the same time in a different direction. Bit tricky. I did feel a bit better after I ranted on to the kind lady in the estate agents, who glazed over after a minute or two and then smiled bravely and began shuffling papers about in an attempt to get rid of me. I took the hint, but my mum got the rest of it when she rang later.
2.09pm. Effect of marzipan starting to kick in now. Feeling a little queasy, can't see properly and temperature rising alarmingly. Hope I don't spontaneously combust.
xxx
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