Bad Fur Day

Like Pip (above) I've been having a bad hair day. Several in fact, ever since I tried to cut my fringe with blunt sicissors and a tired hand - end result I look like a monk.

A couple of Bad Everything Days have knocked me sideways out of Blogland for a while. I haven't blogged, tweeted or kept up with anything *slaps wrist*. (Weirdly I get more new twitter followers when I don't tweet than when I do but I'm trying not to dwell on this fact.)

I've been keeping myself busy, doing a good rendition of auditioning for Grumpy Old Women. I've been provided with ample fodder for my grumpiness - a flood in my kitchen that ruined a hundred odd books I had stored there, a washing machine that refuses to drain, a dishwasher that created a second flood and a plumber who has yet again failed to turn up to fix a permanently gushing tap. I've only been waiting for, ooh about 6 weeks.

I've nothing against the men who thought 8 am was a good time to start drilling concrete outside my bedroom window, they couldn't have known I had a migraine and it felt like they were drilling into my skull. What bugs me is the more personal and very pointed nastiness of a woman in Pizza Express - I accidentally dropped my fork vaguely near her and she shot me a death glare (warp factor 8) while ostentatiously examining her fake fur coat for spots. Also upsetting was finding rotten tomatoes had been thrown at my window the day I was late back from the hospital and my dogs had got upset and howled.

Whoever did it, it certainly wasn't my lovely, sunny ex-neighbour who is constantly smiling no matter what happens. Her cat was recently run over and killed, her husband has left her and she was dealing with a tantrum from her two year old while packing up the house to move when I went round to get my spare key. Still she was smiling, calm, cheerful...as much as I love her this felt a little, um, unnatural?

Bad things happen in life. We get angry. Then little annoying things happen that push our buttons. Hats off to the positive thinking Pollyannas out there but I can't help thinking a desire to accidentally whack 'fork woman' while putting on my coat to leave the restaurant was a natural, healthy response to the distasteful sneer I received.

I know, I'll probably burn in hell or be forced into psycotherapy for that remark but, really! (and no, I didn't actually do it!).

I constantly drop and break things since my accident, so much so that I'm on my third set of cheap crockery. But this was the first time I was made to feel lower than a slug as a result. It topped the time I accidentally hurled a macaroni cheese at a woman in the supermarket. I was mortified but she smiled and was pleasant when I apologised.

Truth is I'm low, grumpy and tired. I've also put my back out to the point where I have to be pushed into an upright position in order to get out of bed. Endless appointments and a depressing prognosis re. the brain injury have left me wrung out like a dishcloth and without the energy to write. As not writing makes me grumpy, it's a self perpetuating circle.

Anyway, I ought to go as I've received an email informing me an internet order I placed in May 2009 has just been dispatched. Good news? No, it's quite a surprise given I paid for and received it last year, it was a horribly large bill then and I'm not exactly thrilled to find they've charged me for it again!

Thankfully I'm going home to Scotland for Christmas, I'll be seeing my house for the first time in ages and when I stop grumping about all the damage holiday guests have done to the place I may just recover enough to write again, not to mention finding time to catch up with all my lovely writing friends.

I asked a very wise person what I should do with the simmering anger I'm feeling and they replied. "You're a writer. So write".

Sound advice methinks ;-)

But if that fails you'll find me in bed with Pip and his toy rabbit, I'll come out again when the grumps have moved on :-)