The first of April was a Monday, which was supposed to be a very satisfying way for a month to begin.
Let me tell you how mine went.
I’d arrived at the gym after work and changed into exercise clothing, then promptly realised that I had forgotten something (look, you opted to read this, I can’t be held responsible for your inevitable boredom now). The forgotten item was a locker token, and I couldn’t really leave my bag in an unlocked locker; it had my work laptop in it, and I couldn’t be bothered with explaining to someone from IT that I’d allowed company property to be stolen.
I left, thinking that I’d just walk home then go for a run. Half an hour later I arrived on my road to find a nice big parking ticket on my car windscreen, having forgotten to move it from the previous day when I couldn’t find a permit space and left it in one of the offensively expensive pay and display ones instead.
Having a residents permit doesn’t mean you’re going to be able to find somewhere to leave your car you see, because the council has given out around 17 times as many permits has they have spaces, which seems like a really logical thing to do.
I know: my bad, my fault, totally deserved it. Doesn’t make it less annoying.
Obviously, I got into the car to begin the arduous process of trying to locate a space that wasn’t already occupied, when a man I’ve never met knocked on my window to inform me of the location of the permit spaces, since everyone could see that the owner of the car with the ticket must be new and confused.
The poor bloke undoubtedly had good intentions, but this really only served to make me even more angry, especially because I didn’t particularly enjoy the idea that the Clio with the parking ticket had been the talk of the day amongst the people who loiter about on our road (of which there are several, all of whom behave like self appointed corridor monitors, except that we’re adults and this is a real life street).
I sound like a dickhead, I know, and a terrible neighbour. Anyway – I was nice, I promise, although I did, of course, make sure to stress that I’ve actually lived here FOR TWO YEARS NOW AND KNOW WHERE THE PERMIT SPACES ARE (I just can’t ever manage to get into one, apparently).
Upon bidding my new acquaintance goodbye I spent forty five minutes driving in circles trying to park, and obviously, by the time the whole sorry affair was concluded, I was hungry, angry, unexercised and poorer.
(Just days later, parked in a different spot, someone left a note on my windscreen to call me an ‘inconsiderate human being’ for not leaving my front wheels out of the bay so that another car could share. I cried, which is admittedly quite a pathetic reaction to such a thing, but the last time I parked like that I got another parking ticket for not being wholly in the space, so apparently I can’t win either way. If you’re reading this, kind neighbour; you might have £50 per day to spend in fines for the pleasure of parking only half your vehicle in a permit space that you’ve spent an excessive amount of time searching for anyway, but I categorically do not.)
Phew. Can you tell I’ve been stewing about that? And can you believe I just included the most boring 500 word ‘story’ ever in an actual blog post? Me neither.
Still, considering April has been very run of the mill so far, you could almost call those happenings the highlights. All I’ve really done (parking debacles aside) is get my head back into work after two weeks off and sort of float through everyday life. Socialising has been fairly minimal, although I did go for some after work drinks that got quite out of hand at the weekend, so April also brought me the worst hangover of my life.
The rest of the month is looking distinctly more fulfilling. Not only have I woken myself up from a little bit of a two week stupor, partially through writing this and partially through giving myself a talking to over the past couple of days, that most prized of occurrences stretches before us; a bank holiday. The best one too – the lesser spotted four day weekend, bookended by four day working weeks which are treats in themselves too.
And in contrast to my no plans start to the month, I seem to have back to back plans for nearly the entirety of the next four days. Frankly, with all that social interaction I’ll need another four days to recover, but much of it involves people I have missed over the past few weeks (and in some cases, a lot longer than that) so I’m looking forward to it nonetheless. I’ve got drinks, birthday parties and family lunches lined up, and between those things I have a couple of life admin bits and deadlines that I absolutely need to get sorted for.
There’s plenty else to be cheerful about, too. My camera is back – fully functioning – in my life, for one thing, which is a relief because not having it was starting to get frustrating. I guess I’ve learnt that I actually like photography, even if it’s not something I have a natural ability at. They even cleaned the sort of grubby bit around the shutter button where my greasy little mitts had made their mark, which is kind. Game of Thrones is back on. The weather – finally – resembles spring. I just did a hair mask and was still in pyjamas at 9am, a rare occurence. A nice new dress arrived in the post this week and I’m looking forward to wearing it.
And, as I said, bank holiday and chocolate eggs. Mine is going to properly get underway very soon and it starts in a beer garden. What’s on the cards for you?
Happy Easter to everyone except parking enforcement officers, bye!
What I’m wearing
Shacket – Zara (C/O via intu Chapelfield) | Top – Zara | Jeans – Zara | Shoes – C/O Dorothy Perkins | Bag – Vintage