The last week of June has been a fun one, featuring some profound insight into life and a delayed OPEC meeting that became reason for a lot of workplace jokes but since nobody but bankers and energy journalists cares about OPEC (cosmically ironic, if you think about it), let’s never mention it again.
Real life training
is something I, for one, definitely need. I’ve always admired people who buy new places to live in, decorate them, equip them with stuff and enjoy the process. Me, I had to find a company to do our kitchen cabinets on Friday and after just one relatively detailed conversation felt utterly exhausted.
Of course, on the same day we had to go and micropchip Vlad because he’ll be travelling with us for our annual visit to Constanta and pets need microchips and passports, and their annual shots, and a special rabies shot before they’re allowed to travel around the EU. And of course now that we’re almost all set they’ll close the borders again because Delta.
I’ve never shied away from hard work but what I see as hard work is writing a few extra news stories or taking on a book for translation with a tighter than usual deadline. I’ve never really thought about how mentally exhausting kitchen cabinet selection could be or how emotionally taxing it is to watch your pet being poked with needles because regulations (which I know have a rational basis and everything but he still got hurt, poor sod.)
So if anyone’s organising training courses in real-lifing, I’ll sign up right away.
The harder it is to do it, the more you’ll like it when it’s done
I certainly hope so because I have a low threshold for household-related trouble. When the neighbours in Sofia infested the whole building with cockroaches it took three rounds of treatment but eventually we got rid of them. That’s the good thing about pests. They respond to poison. Not so with bad building decisions.
In case there’s someone left who doesn’t know it, we’re having ourselves a new kitchen. A big kitchen. A dream kitchen. And the people who built the house put the opening to the drainpipe in that room too high so now we have to rip off the wall to see how far down it can be moved. It’s fixable, that’s the good news, but it may be expensively fixable and that’s the bad news.
I’ve always wanted a big kitchen, probably because most of my life I’ve lived in places with tiny little ones, functional but quite inconvenient for someone who likes space. To date, I’m not the only one wanting a big kitchen because there’s now three of us crowding the jail cell-sized thing we call a kitchen in the city flat.
So it made perfect sense to turn a space initially supposed to have been a garage into a kitchen because it was the only one big enough. It has a waterworks connection, it has power and it has windows. As of last week, it also has a tiled kitchen floor and I still can’t really believe my eyes when I look at it. I guess it will be the same with the cabinets when we finally put these in. And since the floor was a breeze, maybe some trouble is in order to help us appreciate the finished product more. Isn’t it amazing what people would do to rationalise their fears?
The many ways we traumatise our children
Some of these are pretty straightforward – so straightforward, there are laws against them. But there are other ways you can successfully trumatise a child without even trying. I, for example, managed this with zero effort simply by watching a few Euro 2020 games. The experience, I’m sure, left Little C. with the firm belief her mother is a version of Doctor Jekyll/Mr. Hyde even if she hasn’t heard about the book yet. So now we’re not watching games together unless we’re both rooting for the same team. There’s only a couple of games left anyway, so it will all be over soon.
The thing is, I can’t watch a football game in a calm and focused manner. The way I watch them is with much shouting, a lot of cursing (generally calling this or that player an idiot, nothing too bad) and also not infrequent gasps when the ball nears the goal I don’t want it to near.
But if you think Little C. is a little angel, you’d be wrong. I may be a curser but she’s a gloater. That makes her highly unpopular among me when we root for different teams, which has been the case for most of that championship. A form of parent defiance, I suppose. It was not fun at all, for either of us, especially after I confronted her with the undisputable fact that she had not, in fact, watched the Switzerland-Spain game so she did not have a sound reason for alleging Spain were the better team. Seriously, it’s good that Euro 2020 is ending before it does some real harm to our family harmony.
A profound picture for next week
Just a random shot of nature, nothing special. Which is exactly what makes it profound, right?
Book-peddling corner (because books won’t sell/download themselves much as I’d like them to): if you’re in the mood for some dragons and vampires, or mysterious vanishing planes, try The Lamiastriga (which you can’t read for free on this blog) or Sky High (which you can read for free on this blog or on Kobo. I always appreciate feedback). For those in the mood for scary stories, here’s a complete list of my published shorter fiction.