Monday, September 11, 2006
Take Your Boots Off
Gill's shifting house this week and so I've spent the last couple of days moving stuff (I don't know what it is, it's not mine, can't see) and cleaning. Rain fell as we started to cart stuff in from the red Vee Dub Golf and the only good place to put this stuff was the walk-in wardrobe, where the removalists didn't need to walk. The only problem with that was me worrying about tracking dirt on the carpet with my Blundstone boots.
Gill and Martin didn't seemed too concerned but I get guilty walking on bedroom carpet in anything but socks. I don't even hear Mum's voice in my head, I just feel the guilt with every exaggerated 'light' step. I clench up waiting for someone to pop up out of nowhere and yell Who made this mess? Dee, do you have $%^# all over your boots?
Lucky they're elasticised.
Gill and Martin didn't seemed too concerned but I get guilty walking on bedroom carpet in anything but socks. I don't even hear Mum's voice in my head, I just feel the guilt with every exaggerated 'light' step. I clench up waiting for someone to pop up out of nowhere and yell Who made this mess? Dee, do you have $%^# all over your boots?
Lucky they're elasticised.
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