Why?

Pondering the questions of life......

Why do two satsumas - tangerines, easy peelers, whatever your supermarket calls them - from the same pack, always taste the polar opposite of each other? There's always one - and usually the first one you eat - that is so sweet and so close to perfection you can't quite believe it's real. And then the second one contorts your face so much you could challenge the world gurning champion.

Why are braids so hard to do? Attempting to teach yourself French braids and fish tails and Dutch braids is supremely difficult, especially when you have uncooperative hands. You have to do it all behind you, unable to see what a mess of crap it looks like. When I see people with perfect braids, I hope they had help otherwise I would like to yank out said braid. *jealousy*

Why do muggy days make kids go crazy? My Wednesday classes were all out of sorts and squirmy and fidgety and irritable. I guess it's probably the same reason it makes the adults crazy and irritable, because it's all hot and sticky, but not sunny, and it's uncomfortable, sweaty and gross at times. And most of the time you wish for it to break and rain, just for a hint of relief. I realise I've just answered that one myself. But really, it does make the kids wilder than usual.

Why does my brain decide it's fully on board to edit my novel, three days before we go on holiday, when it's been avoiding any work on the subject for at least a month? This really does baffle me. But hey, I'm rolling with it at the moment, and hoping to get more done - maybe even reach about half the book before we go. #amediting

Why does it always rain on me? (Ah, Travis.) Well the answer to this is just: August. Britain. There is no other explanation.

Why do I insist of making all these 'to do' lists, when I barely ever complete them? Sometimes it just feels good to write stuff down, even if you end up ignoring the list, or discarding it. Just the action of pen on paper is an event - wow, I really am sad. But the inevitability of completing all the things I write on a list is nothing short of impossible.

Why do I keep forgetting to take my damn library books back? Probably because I ignored the 'to do' list which told me to take my damn library books back.

Why can I never think of anything to talk about in the lift with the neighbours, other than the weather? Am I in fact a Brit Bot, programmed only to talk about the weather, queues and my own personal space? Perhaps. But you can't really discuss personal space in a lift, can you? I'll stick to the weather I think, less likely to say something stupid.

Why are sports bras so difficult to take off? I've probably asked this before but really with all the technology out there and all the advancements in stuff and things, you'd think they would be able to have a stab at making a sports bras less scary to take off. You do worry sometimes, that you might have to live in it forever.

And finally, before I leave you: why is there never enough time to read books? This one sucks the most. Really sucks. Because unfortunately there are times when you have to sacrifice your reading time to other pursuits and that's rubbish, but sometimes necessary. Boo.

I will now leave you to ponder your own whys of life, whilst I ponder why I wrote this blog.

Rants