I worked today. Not only worked, I got there at bloody 7:00 am, only to realise that the security guard doesn’t arrive on Saturdays until 8:00. I pouted a bit, and then walked laps around the parking lot. I did get a lot accomplished, though; it was bliss having peace and quiet. Problems that had been on the bug list all week suddenly solved themselves. I did so well, I was closing other people’s bugs. :)
Phil and I went shopping when I got back. It was a gorgeous, warm, fleecy-cloud day and everyone was happy. Here is a partial list of reasons why I love this village:
1. It has a shop that only sells hats and gloves. Not that I have ever felt the need to buy a hat or a pair of gloves, mind you, but I love the idea that an old-ladies’ shop like this can survive.
2. I like doing my shopping in lots of little shops rather than at WalMart. In the States, I would have assumed that this would be a major pain in the ass, but it’s not. It’s a connection with an older way of life, a connection into a town and the people. I like the fact that the guy who has the burger truck in the market square knows that I take mayo on my bacon, egg & cheese baps. I like going to the little shop in the indoor market (the old Butter Market) to buy the homemade pies that Phil takes for his lunches. I like the fact that I can buy tack for Kipper, fresh lamb, inexpensive toiletries and hit several second-hand book stores, all within two or three streets.
3. I like the fact that there are areas in the town that are still called Butter Market, Sheep Market, Cattle Market, although they now just house shops. This has been a market town since 1207, if I remember right. Hey, I’m an American, we love that shit. ;)
4. Once I got used to it, I liked being called love, petal, flower or duck by people I didn’t even know. It’s nice.
After shopping, I went out to visit Kip. He’s been lolling in pasture, sleeping in the sun and getting fat during this whole project at work. I lunged him today, and he was appalled. It was like watching the equine version of one of those Fit Farm programmes, where they take a bunch of fat people and make them work out under the the supervision of a drill instructor. He was barely shuffling along, fat shaking in ripples all over his body, rolling a horrified eye at me when I asked him to move out of a walk. lol…poor soft boy. It’s time to get back into shape.
Anyway, I’m done with killing myself on this project. I’m back to normal hours from now on, although I’ll probably still go in at seven for a few more days yet. I don’t feel well, and I’m done with being so stressed and exhausted. I want a life again.
I’m VERY much looking forward to it.