[m i a o w] the cat

Every Tuesday morning I drive to work between nine and ten. Every Tuesday morning, about ten minutes after I pull out of the driveway, I get a text message from my mother which says “R U here for dinner tonight?” Almost every Tuesday morning, I text back, with irrational fury, “Yes. About 7pm.” This prompts my phone to ring about five minutes later. And I don’t answer it. Because I am driving. I am driving because that is what I do Every Tuesday Morning between nine and ten. And I don’t drive to work Any Other Day, because I stay over in town and then drive home on Wednesday nights.

And now that I have paraded my irrational rage at my mother in front of the internet, thus finally getting the message across about one of the two times each week that I will be telephonically unavailable, Sod’s Law comes into play and makes next week at work my last. So I should have actually typed none of this and just bitten my tongue through the drive next Tuesday morning.

But today was compounded by the weather and its stupid 36 degrees. Which, if, along with every other thing that has been done to our new car, we had got the aircon regassed, would not have been an issue. However [sighs deeply] I drove, baking gently, listening to my phone beep. Then ring. Then tell me that there was a missed call. Then tell me that there is a message for me. Then tell me that there is a message for me. Then tell me that sometimes phones will still beep even after you throw them.

P.S - For anyone that feels compelled to point out that I am an ungrateful cow whose mother just wants to feed up in an effort to have a healthy, Nobel Prize winning grandchild? Shut up now.

BROWSE / IN TIMELINE
« The cramps
» Buns’ moves to a new patch

BROWSE / IN Rants
« News of Trailer homicide shocks Australia.
» Sleeping on a sliver

COMMENTS / 2 COMMENTS

You realise, of course, that you are an ungrateful…. oh. Funny thing is mine was exactly the same.
It gets better. Once you two are, well, a separate two, she’ll be all over the other one and completely forget about you. Well, perhaps not competely.