Monday’s mood is black
Not helped by questions
Have I done something wrong?
Do I have to spell it out before 9am
On Monday morning?
Perpective should arrive
Along with Monday’s newspapers
As I was not killed by an articulated lorry over the weekend
Nor did I fall to my death from a tall building
But Monday’s woes remain not killed off either.
However I begin.
In the living room, I sigh. Fraser has crumbled his toast over the sofa
And chewed and spewed
lumps out off the conkers Angus found at the weekend.
Conkers in March? A triumph of optimism over experience.
Like 3rd marriages said Oscar Wilde.
Hall way. The decorative stones are now decorating the floor. Randomly.
Play room. Oh my God where do I start. Maybe with the shoes.
How many bloody feet do my kids actually have?
Consider chopping off a few before repatriation to the hall
WHERE THE BLOODY SHOES ARE SUPPOSED TO BLOODY BE !
Kitchen. Tidy, wipe, fill the dishwasher with the breakfast plates, put it on. Take
The newspaper to the recycle pile in the office
Where I find another breakfast plate.
Shit shit shit…..why does this always happen.
It is 10.05 am
Fraser comes looking for food.
I give him a snack then return to the living room
Where I collect a variety of wrappers, packets.
DOES NOBODY KNOW WHERE THE BIN IS IN THIS HOUSE?
Not really a question though. More a statement of fact.
I sigh again. Soon I will hoover. But first
I wash the bloody plate that escaped the dishwasher.
Before picking up one sock and a pyjama bottom.
In the kitchen, I wash, I wipe
Fraser comes in and shouts at me
Incoherently, which always makes me smile .
I don’t play with him enough. He leaves.
Ok the kitchen. It is now cleanish.
Should I hoover? Not the ironing. Ironing is not a morning job.
I should go to the supermarket too.
While deliberating I discover Angus’s packed lunch in the hall
Left over from Friday, clean it and find a cup and glass on the piano
Which I no longer play.
Back to the kitchen, in the sink. They will keep for later.
DS Lawrence said
There is no point to work
Unless it absorbs you
Like an amusing game.
If it doesn’t absorb you
If it’s never any fun
Don’t do it.
And in theory I can’t argue.
But in practice
I get the hoover.
Monday morning is almost over.
By Fiona Lochhead 2011