I've been rather preoccupied with money matters in the last few days, so much so that I didn't feel like posting anything.
Basically I needed a Plan B so that if the latest price reduction on my former home produced no offers, or only derisory offers, I'd have something definite to fall back on. I was trying to overcome a personal prejudice against letting out the house until the property market improved. I worked through it, and concluded that if I failed to sell this time, I would, subject to certain conditions, give letting a go. So for the first time in my life (my goodness, yet another 'first' in my life) I could become a landlord. Or should that be landlady? (I thought landladies ran pubs, or Blackpool guest houses)
I haven't entirely ignored other issues. One important thing done today was to fix up an hour's consultation with Dr Michael Perring in London, to get a second opinion on my referral for surgery. 2.00pm on 30 November is the date and time. I think I have to somehow convince him that I'm a mature, well-balanced, properly-motivated person without any underlying mental problems or fetishes. Maybe I'll just be myself and hope for the best! He'll be writing a report. I hope it is no worse than 'Pleasant airhead who nevertheless has some grasp on reality; OK for surgery'.
Today would also have been my Dad's 90th birthday. I'm not going to get all sentimental this year. There are several nice pictures of Dad in last year's post Happy 89th Birthday, Dad - or it would have been, which, if curious, you can find by scrolling down to the archive list of postings on the right-hand edge of this blog. I still wished dear Dad a happy birthday the moment I woke up this morning.
Back to more frivolous things tomorrow!
Oh, I didn't mean that, Dr Perring! Everyone knows I'm not frivolous at all, but serious to the point of obsession!
Oh God, I didn't mean to imply that I was an obsessive! Only that I am not, repeat not, a foolish little girl who has no idea about the significance of this surgery!
Oh God, I didn't mean to imply that I didn't think of myself as a little girl, ever. Yes, yes, yes, I did when young, and do now. I have girly thoughts all the time! I live in pretty cotton frocks, and white socks, and red shoes with straps, and tie my hair in pigtails! I've always loved little kittens and ponies and ballet. You've got to believe me, please.
Oh God, I didn't mean to be so emphatic! Actually I was joking! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! As you can see, I actually pose as a sophisticated woman. No, I don't really mean pose, I mean I project this image of a mature woman of style, finesse and allure. Like Audrey Hepburn in those films of the 1950s and 1960s. As in Charade, in which she starred with Cary Grant.
Of course I realise she was just acting! I know she was a screen fantasy, and not a real person! I didn't mean to imply that I was obsessed or deluded by an imaginary ideal! I know I'm a real woman...
(Shreiks and despairs)