I have no patience. Today’s auction has not happened yet and I am
deteriorating into a sniffy, rageous, scatterbrain.
It’s not like I didn’t see this coming, but I
truly believed I’d worked harder on curbing my psychotic tendencies in the lead
up to this auction. I arranged to have a
reasonable discussion about numbers with P last night in a public place over a
glass of pinot noir so that I couldn’t get huffy. To be fair though, this was also because when
you have houseguests in an apartment that is approx. 60m2, you can’t really
have a discussion about private matters.
P and I are not at our best last thing at night, whispering under the
covers (plus, I prefer sweet nothings for that type of whisper, rather than “What
if Interest Rates Go Up?” Please do let
me know if you are aware of any examples of interest rate type conversation
that lead to wild, carefree relations – in fact, having houseguests in such
close proximity means that interest rate discussions are the closest we’re
basically getting to even sedate, constrained relations. This is, no doubt,
increasing the huffiness and up-tightness experienced by the A+P household at
present).
But it is the waiting game that really makes
these conversations so loaded. We have
plenty of evidence that I’m terrible at waiting when expecting something. I just started drafting examples for your
edification, but it’s actually just so horrible I can’t bring myself to
publicise it. I certainly can’t find a
way to make it even remotely funny; it’s a character flaw entirely without
merit that I generally choose to ignore. (See also: wilful ignorance in the veritable pantheon
of flaws that make up my extremely complex persona. Also, an inability to refrain from
referencing P+P. Blame Austen.)
In sum, today I am prickly, nervous and short
with basically everyone. Surely I will
get better at this with practice?
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