This post was written on Wednesday. I tried to publish it then, but to add to the frustrations of the day, it just wouldn’t upload. I cracked it, walked away, and now it is Friday.
Ironically, the Wednesday post started exactly the same way as this morning started: beeps from a car horn…
* * * * *
I awoke to the beeps of a car horn.
My beloved’s son had forgotten to turn his alarm on, and therefore the beeper of the horn was beeping in vain.
Cue frantic morning.
During the drive to school, I got the phone from my GP: Leave the boot on, she said. Need to talk about your ankle on Friday, she said.
I sulked. To be honest, I stropped and threw tantrums and was most displeased. The day continued to deteriorate.
But then, Scouty got a new hoody…
And I got a parcel in the post. It was a USB stick full of photos and audio and the like from Newcastle Writers Festival. I read a piece that I had written for ABC Open at the Festival, and today friends, the USB stick holding all of the evidence of the occasion arrived.
If you would like to hear the audio, it’s below. There are a few pictures from the day there, too.
It’s almost midnight and I am pleased today is over, even though though there is no clear way forward for my foot at this stage. So, you know. Fuck it. Time for bed.