7 January. I am grateful for the confidences of a teenager and for escape in the simplicity of a dog and a ball. And for perfect timing.
I’m really starting to wonder if maybe it’s me. I seem to have fallen out with a friend, two estate agents, our conveyancing attorney, our immigration agent and our local bank manager. Most of them because they just don’t seem to do what they say they’re going to. Maybe it’s my tone? B suggested that whilst he absolutely agrees with the content of my oh so efficiently worded emails, he just wonders if maybe the quite short sentences which clearly signal my irritation, the clipped I would appreciate your response at your earliest convenience and my obvious exclusion of kind regards, is maybe not the way to go. He says it very gently because I know he can feel the menopausal embers just waiting for something to ignite them. Damn. Is it me? The thing is though, despite my slight, ahem, volatility I do struggle with people who don’t do what they say they’re going to do. Maybe my expectations are too high. But then really how can they be when I’m only expecting people to do what they say they’re going to do. And I know life intervenes and often despite our best intentions we can’t do the things we said we would. But then I just wish people would own that. Would say that. And wouldn’t try to duck and dive. And make excuses. And lay blame. And if they do that I promise I’ll work on my tone. I will. Or am I maybe expecting too much again?