A maddening wind huffing all night and all day, and this morning sleet pelting the car as I drove to school for week 2 of the trial 10. At some point I had a near miss turning into a side road where visibility is very awkward on a bend and a hill, and the cars come fast and (did I mention) it was sleeting and blowing a gale, and had to brake sharply, then apply the handbrake and attempt the manoeuvre again, this time successfully (just). Continuing on the last few minutes' drive to school, a large red exclamation mark had appeared on the dashboard, and a loud and insistent beeping just kept on and on, while I shouted what!? what for fuck's sake? and continued driving, knowing I was within spitting distance of my destination. Arriving, I had to turn around in a side street (there is never any space in the school carpark), and discovered to my utter chagrin that the handbrake was, and indeed had been for several minutes ON. How did I not know that? Have I done some irreparable damage to something? Weirdly, fortunately, embarrassingly, the car is going into the garage on Friday so I can fess up, and ask them to check. Later another little warning light came on - a weird one that has come on a couple of times before then disappeared, which according to the manual is something to do with CO2 emissions... This car is anxious for care and attention (or is that me?)
My friend K, astrologer turned psychotherapist, looking at my chart many years ago, described the effect of a central aspect of it - Mars-Saturn opposition - as being like driving with the brakes on. I've never forgotten that. I do it a lot, but usually only metaphorically...
At school, I made use of the mystery toilet adjacent to my room, having locked the door leading onto the corridor (of which I was blissfully ignorant last week), and when I flushed it, the plumbing began to make the most horrendous noise, not unlike a light aircraft coming in to land. Please, I thought, make it stop - do not let me have to have a plumbing discussion with anyone. After maybe three long minutes, when the cistern had finally finally filled up, it stopped, and fortunately this was before my young client arrived...
3 comments:
Hang in there :-)
Well, all of that sounds at least exciting - if rather stressful.
(The dead chap I referred to, by the way, is pictured in my previous blog post. You're not keeping up... He was a skeleton dug up in Edinburgh's so-far-abortive attempts to provide itself with trams.)
...not my idea of excitement!!
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