My brain has turned into mush. Or maybe it's the weather that has done it. Firstly, WTF is going on with the weather here? It's 15 degrees, raining non stop and windy. Did we move to the UK and nobody told me? This is ridiculous. Even worse, it's supposed to continue until NEXT Monday so there's another week of this hideousness. Oh joy.
Anyway. I was going to meet some friends today - one of my mates' sister is here with her baby and I needed to say goodbye as she was going back to the UK. They live out in Somerset West. Now I knew that another mate was going over there as well for the same reason, so when she called to find out where I was, I naturally assumed that she was there in Somerset West with the rest of the clan. Rule no. 1: Never assume anything. She said to me: "We're waiting for you here so don't be too long in coming!" So in the rain and the cold I got into my trusty Tazzerati and off I set for Somerset West. It's about 45km out of Cape Town and in this weather it's advisable not to drive fast (unlike idiots from Jhb) so it took about an hour or so. I got to the gate and was slightly baffled when no one answered. It was at this point that some nasty suspicions started to grow in my mind... I put a call through to her and asked her where they were and it turned out that they were at her house. Which is in Fresnaye. Which is in Cape Town.
Somewhere along the line, I'd missed the part where my mates from Somerset West were coming out to Cape Town. We agreed at this point that they would leave Fresnaye and meet me at my house in Rondebosch to say goodbye en route back to Somerset West. So once more, I got in my little car and drove an hour back home. A 2 hour round trip on a Sunday afternoon. My brain is definitely mush.
This morning was also the Big Walk. The Volunteer Wildfire Services sends out two teams: one at the finish to watch out for fires (fat chance in this weather) and one to walk. Last year I walked and this year I had decided to do the same. This is another example of where my brain turned to mush; I was supposed to go and fetch the goodie bags and race numbers on Thursday. I completely forgot and only remembered that it needed doing at all when my mate asked me if I'd done it. Then she said no worries that I can go on Friday morning. Surprise, I forgot. Luckily we spoke on Friday afternoon and this time we went together after she finished work. So there we were, race numbers ready, fire uniforms ready (I'd even had the badges resewn in the correct place as per VWS policy for the occasion!) and all systems go. Except that it started raining on Saturday afternoon. And it didn't stop.
Now we were in a quandary. To go or not to go. After all, it was supposed to be a team thing. Late on Saturday night we decided that the best thing would be to set our alarms for 6.45am (the race started at 8) and wake up and check the weather and then decide. I struggled to sleep that night so when that alarm went off it was the last thing I wanted to hear. I hauled myself out of bed, went and had a look and it was still raining. You know that stupid pissy little rain where the drops are so small that you can barely see them and yet you still get thoroughly soaked... and it doesn't let up for days. Like they have in the UK. No wonder the English are such a miserable bunch. If I had that for 11 and a half months a year I'd be pretty pissy too. Executive decision. I went straight back to bed. My mate woke up at 5ish and made the same executive decision - she just turned the alarm off! Great minds...
With the weather predicted to still be like it is in the UK for the next WEEK, there is no chance that I am going to get any less mushy in the head if indeed it is the weather causing the problem. So if you want anything coherent from me, you will have to wait till it's beach weather again.
Soundtrack for the Day: Revealed - Blank & Jones with Steve Kilbey (what I was listening to in the car on my roundtrip to Somerset West and back)
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