Dreadful Nonsense

Ah, Mother's Day.

Today was a day to celebrate motherhood, and my mother chose to celebrate it by trying to kill both myself and herself in the pursuit of moving the computer room from one side of the house to the other. Yes, the freaking room. The whole freaking room. Not just the freaking computer.

This all started when I stupidly enough made some remark about the fact that my old bedroom would make a better office space than my brother's old bedroom. And if my brother's old bedroom was no longer an office but a bedroom, it would mean that my brother would actually have somewhere to actually sleep in the house, and wouldn't have to crash out on the sofa on the rare occasion that he does come home. He's supposed to be sleeping in my old bedroom, you understand, but he is considerably longer than me - in that he's tall and I'm not - and he can't fit on the bed I slept in from the age of 9 to the age of 19. This got my mother thinking, and without any kind of hesitation, she'd bought some bland new wallpaper and encouraged me to rip the baby blue wallpaper off the wall of what was once my bedroom.

I enjoyed the ripping.

She then climbed ladders with her new flash hip and her other not quite so flash but still quite false hip, and wallpapered the my-old-bedroom-now-the-new-office (or "room 1") in a matter of hours. The bland coloured carpet followed soonafter, once we had carried all the things from room 1 into the once-my-brother's-bedroom-then-the-old-office-now-once-again-my-brother's-bedroom (or "room 2"). Room 2 was already full of rubbish I had moved from my sister's old bedroom to accommodate all of my precious things, along with rubbish my brother had left there when he moved out, rubbish both my sisters had left there when they moved out and rubbish I had left there when I moved out. Basically, a room full of rubbish, computers and everything Mum uses for work. What I'm saying is, there was a lot of stuff in there.

Yesterday, we made shelves in Room 1, me and Mum, with the magic of a power drill, some planks of wood, some things called brackets and some other things I don't know the names of. And some screws. It was very impressive, how my Mum in all her wisdom knows how to make shelves from scratch and has no qualms about using a power drill. Impressive, but not inspiring. I really need to marry a rich man who will be able to hire people to do things like that for me, so that I don't ruin my horrible square finger nails.

Today, we filled those shelves. With all of the aforementioned rubbish. Not all of the rubbish, of course. Some of it, we threw out. Some others of it, we put in bags and will be bringing to charity shops. The rest of it we filed carefully away in boxes bought from Argos and stacked them on the shelves. I'm looking at the shelves right now. It's all deeply impressive. The cat is also fascinated by the change in the room and she's currently crawling all around, trying to get into every nook and cranny. As I type this, she's standing on the computer monitor, and staring at me like it's me that's doing the odd thing.

Amongst the debris was a fairly impressive amount of letters people had sent me that I had declined to throw away over the years. And a vast amount of New Kids On The Block memorabilia, of which I managed to throw away over half. It's very odd the things that you think are important to keep. I was mystified by some of my choices, and horrified by others, and on the other hand totally enchanted by a lot of them. You don't notice your priorities changing over the years, but it's nice to be reminded so vividly of things that were once dreadfully important to you.

So here I am in the new office, which was once my bedroom. There's a different view to stare at out the window when the internet connection isn't working as quickly as I'd like, and that's novel enough to inspire me to write this long and boring blog entry. But it's a Monday morning when you're reading this, and you office workers care naught for entertainment, when it's only diversion you're looking for, isn't that right, Joanne / Dave? Ha. I'm probably still asleep.

This entry was posted on 21 March 2004 at 11:16 pm. 0 comments

Dreadful Nonsense

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