It was one of those wild and windy nights last night: so windy, in fact, that Terry had to go out and weigh our rubbish bins down with rocks to stop them making another bid for freedom. It didn’t really work. By this morning the bins were all huddled up against the back gate, like refugees awaiting freedom, and the wind was still blowing, and making an almighty racket, which actually kind of reminded me of that time workmen arrived in the street and proceeded to blast out music loud enough to be heard above the sound of their power tools (and also: in every room in our house).
(I mean, seriously, who does that? (Other than White Van Men, obviously). Who thinks to themselves, “Hey, I’d really like to listen to some music while I work with my power tools. I know! I’ll just blast it out so that the whole street is forced to listen to it too! Because really, who cares that they don’t want to listen to my music all the livelong day? As long as I’m happy, that’s all that matters!” WHO THINKS LIKE THAT?
And I know that sometimes people like to have a bit of music while they work (The Seven Dwarves did, for sure), but there are lots of people who’d like to blast our music all day long, but who are just forced to accept that they can’t do it without inconveniencing the people around them. I’m sure we’d all like to be able to go through life just doing whatever the hell we liked, with complete disregard for other people – I for one would like nothing better than to beat the ever-loving crap out of Patrick Kielty, for instance, but I don’t just go and do it, do I? And not just because the restraining order makes it difficult for me to get within a few hundred metres of the fecker. No, I don’t do it because it would be rather antisocial of me, and because IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT ME, and what I want. Oh no, wait: it totally is all about me, isn’t it?
Anyway, my point is that it’s a shame more people don’t just stop and consider the people around them before indulging themselves in a spot of good old antisocial behaviour. It would make the world a much safer place for Patrick Kielty for one thing, and it would allow me to sleep later in the morning, without having to listen to someone else’s music. Nope, still not over that, apparently.)
Now, where was I? Oh yeah: the wind. It was big and it was loud (oh, so loud!), but, weirdly, even although it knocked over The Brown Bin, and almost made The Black Bin disgorge all of its contents onto the driveway, it did nothing to shift the flattened Irn Bru can that’s been lying on our front lawn for four weeks now. What’s that about? I didn’t even manage to take the dog for a walk, the weather was so wild, and I’m guessing that’s why we returned home from the gym this afternoon to find two neat turds decorating the kitchen floor. So far, this whole “2008” thing isn’t working out too well. I’d quite like the old year back again, thanks very much.
(Yes, I am now reduced to talking about the weather, like an Old Person. We can only hope I choke on a piece of steak or something soon, so that things can get back to normal around here…)