It’s official – I hate the outdoors. Don’t get me wrong, this is nothing sudden or altogether unexpected, but it is now official.
Why now? Because now I am sitting outside in my garden, under the sparse shade of a tree I don’t know the name of on a picnic blanket, in the hot sun with my laptop – yes, I can hear you nature lovers getting your knickers in a knot over how lucky and therefore ungrateful I am – but I don’t care! I am pregnant, hot, my eyes hurt from trying to squint to see what is on my laptop screen, there are ants crawling everywhere (much like a very vivid nightmare I had 2 nights ago) and there are spiders, bugs and giant bumblebees divebombing me from every angle.
As you may have gathered, something must be going on for me to be subjecting myself to this utter torture, you would be correct. I have been talking for ages about getting new carpets in upstairs – the stairs themselves, the master bedroom, the cats room and our new baby room, about half the house all in all. Not once did it occur to my pregnancy addled brain that they have to secure these carpets somehow, the somehow being with super strong smelling glue that may or may not be toxic for baby and I.
And so I sit – melting, cranky, miserable, tired, trying to breathe (yes, you can still smell the glue outside), listening to banging and tearing noises from inside and the hacking cough of one of the installers that I really hope is just a smokers cough and not TB or some other deadly germ, over the increasing buzzing of what I can only assume is a bumblebee plot to attack me as they multiply by the minute above me casting giant shadows everywhere.
Why not just leave and go elsewhere? The thought is tempting; but I also have my 2 furbabies to think of. They are indoor cats (for now until I get used to the idea of them coming and going as they please which needs to be by the time our little one arrives); they are allowed outside as long as we are here and I can’t leave them closed up inside a potentially toxic house alone.
Maybe I wouldn’t hate the outdoors as much if I were not the kind of pale person who instantly turns fire-engine red when exposed to the sun, quickly followed by peeling, itching and reverting to pure white once more (no tan for me) or I hadn’t developed an allergy to the grass in our garden last Summer that left me coughing all through the night for months or even if I was not sitting all by myself; but none of these are true and so my cranky hormonal self will sit and feel terribly sorry for myself until the lack of oxygen inside becomes more attractive than the over-abundance of oxygen out here.
Nature – bleugh, it’s for the birds – literally!