Thursday October 23, 2008
Rather a horrid, dark, damp and drizzly day. One which matched my physical spirits; while my soul soars, my poor old body is lagging behind.
“I feel like I should curl up under the covers and stay here for a week,” I said when my morning call appeared, bearing hot coffee.
“Sorry. You can’t do that. Next week, perhaps, but I need you this week.”
“Oh. Well, it’s good to be needed.”
Once I’d got through the first coffee barrier I was needed to help carry four Billy bookcases up from their temporary home in the garage to fill the wall in bedroom three where the inherited rubbish bedroom furniture had stood. Then I was needed for chauffeur duties. Then I was needed for lunch-making duties. And now, free, as the dark day yields to a dark night, I’m finding my own ‘needed for’ tasks before I’m needed to cook dinner.
It’s good to be needed.
