Photographers, artists, poets: show us DUTY.
Part of my vacuum cleaner (a Dyson): one of
the objects that still enslave me in my daily life.
When you arrive at a certain age, there are
no tasks that you dare to dislike doing. There are no daily routines, only the
ones you want, and there are no bosses, no work patterns, to ruin your idea of
a good life. So, why we do still do these things like cleaning bathrooms,
showers, kitchens and keeping everything in order. The simple answer “Because
they are there”. The same reason we climbed Mount Everest or flew to the moon.
I could make a list of things I do routinely but I do not have any favourite jobs or tasks, I hate them all. Since no longer being a member of the working population, I just like to keep things looking OK. I do not have to rise in the morning and go to a distant place called work. That is behind me. Oh rejoice and sing hallelujahs, but what comes afterwards? Waiting for the Grim Reaper to take you to the eternal Chain Gang Hunting Grounds.
I am probably a fool that I still do things that I might not have to do, but a little order in life has to be. You cannot leave things behind you in a mess. I often wonder how the Facebook addicts fit in their daily cleaning routine, or perhaps they have the ultimate solution. They just clean the computer, everything else is unimportant. This week I had a warning: not that the bloke arrived dressed in black with a vacant place in the shadows of his hood carrying a scythe to reap my soul, if I have one.
I was cleaning the toilet yesterday morning – it has to be done. It could have been the feline’s tray, which would have been more possible for it to happen, but. no, it was a toilet bowl complete with seat, a modern construction, we all have one. This is a regular morning job. Of course I clean it regularly. It could be that the neighbour drops in and wants to go to the toilet, or the local vicar, or anyone and you have to keep up appearances. Imagine the rumours in the village when they hear that Mrs. Angloswiss does not clean her toilet.
I am digressing. Ok, so there I was poised with the toilet brush and ready to eradicate any germs, bacteria, and other threatening wild life to the human body and then it happened: just a little bend in the body in the wrong direction. There was a curious “never to have felt before” pain in the joint combing my leg with the hip. Since this memorable occasion I have difficulty in bending. If something falls down I take a deep breath, sink to my knees in slow motion, bite on my tongue and pick it up. It has become a painful movement. Sitting has also become a chore that sends a warning pain along my leg. Once I am down it is OK, the next problem is standing. This happened yesterday morning. Thank goodness my Dyson vacuum cleaner can be used in a standing position.
Sleeping became almost an action of impossibility. I was under the impression it could only get better, but every time I turned in bed I was reminded that I had a (left) leg that was somewhat unstable in the top joint. I am not really a tablet person, although I have an emergency supply of the necessary drugs. I was poised to swallow one of these tablets but on the other hand, did not want to swallow a second one when the effect of the first tablet was no longer working. I had visions of becoming addicted. Now and again I took a quick look in the dark bedroom to see if that Reaper Bloke was standing in the shadows, but I did not see him. I suppose I would not see him, the bedroom being dark. After spending an almost sleepless night from 3.00 a.m. until 6.00 a.m. the pain was reduced and I discovered I could move without being reminded that I should not have moved in this strange way when cleaning the toilet.
I did not actually leap out of bed with joy the next morning. It was a movement in slow motion, but I realised my programme of things I do could continue, perhaps not as quick as usual. So here I am typing my daily prompt, and sitting on a chair. I survivied and that is the main thing. And the answer to the question “Tell us all about the least favorite job/task/chore that you get stuck doing routinely”, would be “everything, especially if it means moving the hip”.
I could make a list of things I do routinely but I do not have any favourite jobs or tasks, I hate them all. Since no longer being a member of the working population, I just like to keep things looking OK. I do not have to rise in the morning and go to a distant place called work. That is behind me. Oh rejoice and sing hallelujahs, but what comes afterwards? Waiting for the Grim Reaper to take you to the eternal Chain Gang Hunting Grounds.
I am probably a fool that I still do things that I might not have to do, but a little order in life has to be. You cannot leave things behind you in a mess. I often wonder how the Facebook addicts fit in their daily cleaning routine, or perhaps they have the ultimate solution. They just clean the computer, everything else is unimportant. This week I had a warning: not that the bloke arrived dressed in black with a vacant place in the shadows of his hood carrying a scythe to reap my soul, if I have one.
I was cleaning the toilet yesterday morning – it has to be done. It could have been the feline’s tray, which would have been more possible for it to happen, but. no, it was a toilet bowl complete with seat, a modern construction, we all have one. This is a regular morning job. Of course I clean it regularly. It could be that the neighbour drops in and wants to go to the toilet, or the local vicar, or anyone and you have to keep up appearances. Imagine the rumours in the village when they hear that Mrs. Angloswiss does not clean her toilet.
I am digressing. Ok, so there I was poised with the toilet brush and ready to eradicate any germs, bacteria, and other threatening wild life to the human body and then it happened: just a little bend in the body in the wrong direction. There was a curious “never to have felt before” pain in the joint combing my leg with the hip. Since this memorable occasion I have difficulty in bending. If something falls down I take a deep breath, sink to my knees in slow motion, bite on my tongue and pick it up. It has become a painful movement. Sitting has also become a chore that sends a warning pain along my leg. Once I am down it is OK, the next problem is standing. This happened yesterday morning. Thank goodness my Dyson vacuum cleaner can be used in a standing position.
Sleeping became almost an action of impossibility. I was under the impression it could only get better, but every time I turned in bed I was reminded that I had a (left) leg that was somewhat unstable in the top joint. I am not really a tablet person, although I have an emergency supply of the necessary drugs. I was poised to swallow one of these tablets but on the other hand, did not want to swallow a second one when the effect of the first tablet was no longer working. I had visions of becoming addicted. Now and again I took a quick look in the dark bedroom to see if that Reaper Bloke was standing in the shadows, but I did not see him. I suppose I would not see him, the bedroom being dark. After spending an almost sleepless night from 3.00 a.m. until 6.00 a.m. the pain was reduced and I discovered I could move without being reminded that I should not have moved in this strange way when cleaning the toilet.
I did not actually leap out of bed with joy the next morning. It was a movement in slow motion, but I realised my programme of things I do could continue, perhaps not as quick as usual. So here I am typing my daily prompt, and sitting on a chair. I survivied and that is the main thing. And the answer to the question “Tell us all about the least favorite job/task/chore that you get stuck doing routinely”, would be “everything, especially if it means moving the hip”.
Ouch. I do hope it is just a temporary problem and not one you will have to endure permanently.
ReplyDeleteI don't know, I have so many golden oldie problems, I no longer bother to put them in categories.
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