Wright On! Shelley Wright takes a wry look at life
CAN you believe it is July 16th? I mean, where has the year gone? It doesn't seem two minutes since I was wondering what colour pyjamas to buy everyone for Christmas and dreading becoming 24.
Now I feel like the next thing I know it will be October and everyone will start twittering about Christmas again and I'll start worrying about being 25.
There's a definite pattern emerging here - and I'm starting to think it's a bit sad.
I mean, Christmas and birthdays are fantastic things to look forward to for the first 10 or 15 years aren't they?
But after a while it's a bit like deja vu. Boring even, eh?
But it's looking forward to things and using them to gauge space and time that makes the weeks fly by, don't you think?
After Christmas we count the days to New Year, our birthdays, other people's birthdays, Easter, summer holidays....the list goes on and on.
Personally, I also spend three weeks of every month wishing the time away until I get paid because I'm always broke after the first seven days.
But really, where does the time go?
I wake up every Monday morning feeling and looking like I've been hit over the head with a cast-iron frying pan, and on the verge of that horrible sinking feeling which dawns when you remember what day it is.
And before I know it a week has flown by and I'm there again. Only it's a week later and I've got very little done.
I suppose I can see why. I mean, take my typical week.
By the time I get home on Monday the most I can hope for is enough energy to make some tea and keep awake for Coronation Street.
And so by Tuesday there's usually pots that have been festering in the sink for a week and a pile of washing that's about to crawl down the stairs and into the machine on its own.
Wednesday I usually try and catch up with people I haven't seen or spoke to since the Wednesday before, and Thursday I have a long-standing arrangement with my best pal to eat, drink and talk a lot - and I bet you can't believe that.
Anyway by the time I've been out Friday and Saturday night, watched the Brookside omnibus and whirlwinded around Rawtenstall Asda I'm back where I started - Monday morning again.
And I just know I'm going to wake up one of these days and be 70 and wonder where my life has gone - though I'll probably still get up at the crack of dawn for no reason because that seems to be what old people do. I think all this worrying about time running out is because I've been off this week and have very little to show for it.
Unless you count a clear vision of what needs doing on the house.
You see all the extra time has given me moments to contemplate exactly what I haven't done in the 12 months since I moved in - yes, it's 12 months since I first encountered those flaming chickens -and what I really need to be getting round to quick smart. My initial plan for this week was to to paint my yard so I could have a barbecue to celebrate the anniversary.
But standing outside looking at the back wall and a quick trip to B and Q to choose a colour is as far as I've got I'm afraid. Well, Jerry Springer is on every afternoon you know and I have had a bit of extra sleeping to do.
I must admit the thought of having a barbecue puts me off doing the work too.
I mean, they're one of those things that sound good in practice but are generally pants (that means rubbish to you oldies). You can't even win with the weather either - if it's nice everyone sits outside charring kebabs until they resemble lumps of coal while rain just forces everyone to stand half inside the kitchen with the door open in a bid to achieve a semi-al fresco effect.
I tell you what, I think I'll be glad to get back to work. See you next week!
Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.
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