Contradictions.

Something I have never understood about myself is the seemingly nonsensical dichotomy of being paralysed by a last minute change of plans or alterations to a schedule, and the absolute enjoyment and liberation I feel when there is no plan at all.

Today for instance.

“We’re all going for a walk, we’ve been stuck inside for two days, it’ll be good to get out”

My Stepmum was right, and I wholeheartedly agreed. I’d barely let the four walls of my room the past week, and I think my body has started to permanently fix into a hunched position where I have been pouring out the first creative writing story I have written since GCSE.

It was not planned, it just happened. Not being able to get out, not being physically able to function had rendered me to the point of insanity and I had to find a way to occupy my time without losing the plot completely.

Dad and I set about discussing where we might go, but in a matter of moments we had lost ourselves in reading a series of parody reviews of places with phallic names nearby and what delights they had to offer.

“I’m sure you’ve written these yourself Dad.”

“Well, I could have done”

The last thing he’d offered was a job application for the local pub, somehow didn’t make the cut though, perhaps it was the hesitation for subservience and the overconfidence with managing customers money? We’ll never know, but he’d certainly have looked dashing in the pink uniform.

A few stories later about the time he chased bandits with a pistol in his underwear and various other amusing anecdotes later, we had fully digressed.

An hour later, whilst I’m decanting the three large bags of weekly medication. “You ready to go?”

“Where are we going then?”

“Dunno, but we’re getting in the car.”

There is no hesitation, no worry,  no hangups.

Grabbed my crutches, delicately extracted the tinsel decoration that had fallen on top of them. I cannot bear the smell, sound, or touch of tinsel.

Perhaps my Stepmums Mum has finally enacted revenge on me for all the times my sister’s and I stole her crutches when we were kids and hide them in the shed at the bottom of the garden? Fair play.  I’ll challenge her to a race later.

Jumped in the car, started typing this post.

Still don’t know where we are headed.

Does it really matter?