I have a very strict routine which I adhere to vehemently. It is basically that I do what I want, when I want and how I want, at any time day or night. This routine is occasionally shattered when I skip gleefully to the Medical Centre to give a blood sample at 8am, or when friends drag me screaming to another party. This routine has worked well in practice over the last ten months or so. But now I am totally disrupted and confused. Why??
I now have to plan what I do, where I do it and how I do it. It is a major military operation. The three cats and I are living in two rooms stacked high with boxes and “things”. A magnificent theme park for the cats. There is no water for the kettle or to wash up, and no bathroom facilities. So to open the door to the builder’s armageddon where the water and loo is to be found without letting a cat escape needs planning. Are they asleep? Are they on the front balcony? If I go to the loo what else needs doing out in the wasteland of half of my apartment?
My new routine is working okay at the moment except for the Tray. As most of you know, Toni, my neighbour downstairs has been cooking wonderful evening meals for a few weeks and the Tray is brought up to me every night at around 10pm. Now the Tray is big and heavy with three brown glazed terracotta dishes and a bread basket. It is also wider than the door to the minimalistic builder’s part of the apartment. When I have finished eating I must get through that door with the Tray to wash up without a cat escaping. They know I am going out and are ready to scamper out of the door between my legs. I have to walk sideways through the door with the wide Tray in my hands and try to close the door as I exit while fending off the cats. No mean feat, but I was successful on the first night. There are many more nights of this palaver to come. Sigh !!
(I wish I didn’t !! )
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