A Monday from hell …

Lordy, but it’s been another absolute bummer of a day today. Most of it I’ve hated. To be honest. I’m most definitely not in either a people or a things mood. Which narrows my options big-time, deep sigh … Anyway, before the rot sets in, here’s this morning’s meditation poem. We’re at the start of Numbers now, so best get your calculators out:

Meditation 77

So much accounting
of the menfolk:

those who are leaders,
those who are soldiers

and those who are priests.
It makes you wonder

what the womenfolk
are doing

all this time.


At work, I’ve barely had time to breathe. I’ve spent the whole morning catching up on emails, arranging meetings, rearranging meetings I’d already arranged and then arranging some more. Just in case people aren’t sick of each other by then. As for me, I have no chance as I’m sick of everyone already – including myself.

I just about managed to get on top of the thick of it by the time I had to do the lunchtime minutes of the Steering Group. Another meeting I was soooo not in the mood for. And, the moment I got there, much to my horror I saw there were no sandwiches, or drink. God, but it’s horrendous enough without fainting with hunger or dying of thirst in the middle of our two-hour meeting sessions. So I went off in a strop attempting to make contact with Catering, who weren’t anywhere to be seen, dammit. Apparently I went off in so much of a strop that the lovely Steph from Health followed me out to see if she could be of any help – but I was going so fast that I didn’t notice her and she couldn’t keep up. Sorry, Steph – though thanks for the thought … I am indeed just a bear with a very sore head today (though I do have to say that, with a very few honourable exceptions, other people are being peculiarly unhelpful too). Anyway, by the time I came back, still huffing and puffing, the sandwiches were arriving so at least we could keep body and soul together. However, the meeting itself seemed to last for days, if not weeeeks, and I felt quite tearful with it all, but time was obviously rechanneled in some way at the end of it as it was in fact only 2.40pm when I got back to the office. I didn’t really have much idea of what on earth was going on at the end of it all either, so Lord alone knows how I’m supposed to write up those minutes. Not that I have any enthusiasm for doing it, sigh …

Mind you, the afternoon was slightly lighter (but only slightly) in the gloomy stakes – one of my friends (thanks, Sue!) sent me a lovely clip of a cat fighting a photocopier machine which kept us all amused for hours, and the Arts Office lady (thank you, Jo!) has sent round another note to the Book Group confirming that A Dangerous Man is commercially published. Phew – Flame Books will be relieved to hear that, I’m sure …

Oh God and I have to go to the wretched shops on my way home to stock up our food cupboards. Sound of even more desperate sighing … Is there no end to the delights of this day??? I shall be glad to collapse in a quivering heap in front of the TV tonight, I can tell you. Who gives a monkey’s what’s actually on …

UPDATE: Tesco was crap. They don't even have any proper bloody bags any more and instead were giving out bags the size of postage stamps which might as well have been made of lace for all the good they did. Two of mine collapsed while I was packing them and sent everything crashing to the floor, which I was distinctly not happy about and let them know it too. Sod 'em, eh. The buggers! And when I got home, I find I have yet another flash fiction story rejection which seems like the last proverbial straw today, I can tell you. Mind you, the universe is being faintly kind to me as I've also got the proofs back for two of my meditation poems which are to be published at some point, so that's put a small smile back on my face, hurrah ...

And I'm thinking, what with all this depression which might or might not be caused by the new HRT, about trying out St John's Wort to see if I feel any happier on that. After all, if I know doctors, they'll insist on at least trying the new drugs regime for three months and, really my dears, I can't be doing with feeling like this until June. God forbid! Anyway it sounds like a plan ...

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Steph
3. Funny cats
4. The second Arts Office note
5. Poetry proofs.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website - hanging on in there in an increasingly spiky world ...