I have always tried not to be a Moaning Minnie.
The trouble is, some days everything seems to conspire against me and I find
myself whingeing and moaning. It really isn’t a Good Look.
Today started off quite well, even though Wednesday is, as regular readers well know, my Piccadilly
Circus Day. But Ken the Gardener arrived, despite the fact that we had had an unexpected shower overnight and mowed my lawns, back and front, into smart, straight stripes. And the Lovely Kay, who helps me keep my house in order, was back from her summer holiday.
Oh, I have missed her and - even more importantly - my house has missed her too. She always tells me I mustn’t wield a duster in her absence, she wants to come back to lots of dust. I didn’t argue with her.
Because we are still in the school holidays, she brought her young’un with her, my Roblox Buddy. Today he has introduced me to a new game which is loosely based on Fortnite but isn’t Fortnite.
Not that I would know the difference, you understand. I didn’t really like my avatar in the new game but I do seem to be learning how to send my alter ego (mostly) in the direction I want to go. My Roblox Buddy thinks I need to kill a few more people
- I haven’t killed anyone yet but, to be honest, I am quite pleased with myself for my restraint. Even if I don’t actually know how to Do The Evil Deed. I think my Roblox Buddy is a little disappointed that I never play the game when he isn’t
around - practice would, obviously, make perfect...
So far, so good - everything is going well in my world. Until it all comes toppling down. I am waiting in for
the District Nurse to call for Mr B. If she arrives by lunchtime I could do the shopping and maybe, just maybe, fit in an hour at the gym? Come four o’clock and there’s no sign of her. I phone the office and get put through to answerphone. A bit
later, a call back tells me we won’t be seeing a nurse today but one will visit tomorrow. I whinge and moan that tomorrow I have arranged an outing in the afternoon, a dear friend is keeping Mr B company, I’ve been really, really looking forward
to it. No promises, but the nurse will try to call before midday..
I race down to the shops before they close. In the pharmacy they can’t locate Mr B’s
prescription which was sent through from the GP surgery at the end of last week. I sit and wait. And wait. It is a repeat of my experience last week when I was eventually told I could either come back at the end of the day or wait - though if I chose the latter
option I would have to wait an hour. Yes, I whinged and moaned but to no avail.
Today, several people seem to be having difficulties getting their medication.
There is a good deal of whingeing and moaning going on. One person, also waiting, says it is all down to Brexit. A fierce elderly woman sitting next to me, mounts a fierce defence of Boris. I decide to keep well out of the argument lest I be thought to be
whingeing and moaning...
Then on the way home, the answer came into my head. Suddenly I was Elsa, in my floaty blue dress with my white hair in a classic
plait, singing “Let it go, let it go...!” at the top of my voice. Fortunately I didn’t meet anyone on my way home. I did make, I admit, an Extremely Unlikely Elsa.
Not to worry, thanks to Elsa I now know how to deal with my whingeing and moaning.
Just let it go...