So I had to take the day off work today on account of being silenced- a teacher with no voice is no teacher at all. I was expecting a pretty garden variety day to be honest; I didn’t feel like I was allowed to go out because I’m “sick” but also completely fine, I just can’t talk. Anyway , I popped out to get some jewellery supplies, and as I walked through the park I stumbled across a small pouch on the floor. It was floral so I obviously picked it up , I had no choice. I looked around for someone with a floral demeanour, but there wasn’t anyone female in the vicinity (yes I’m gendering floral, but it was the kind of pouch thirteen year old me would have loved). I walked along on my way just kind of holding it very openly in my hands, hoping someone would claim it, and then I opened it up to see if there was an ID or anything. There wasn’t but there was fifteen quid inside and I completely lost the plot.
I HATE finding money. Probably because I have a terrible habit of losing money, so I just wandered around and went completely past where I meant to go like “someone pleeease, claim this pouch”. In the end I resolved to go and buy sausages (it’s hot dog day) and then double back through the park to look for floral people. Anyhoo, there I am , wandering through the park with my sausages trying to be a good Samaritan, when what do I see under a bench? Oh , of course it’s an Iphone, abandoned. So, mystery money tossed in my handbag, I dialled “mum” and spoke to a charming woman who directed me to her son’s house ( very trusting, good job I’m not an axe murderer).
He was about ten minutes away, so like Frodo Baggins with Google maps I set off on my quest, I was all hopped up and excited about doing a good deed , especially as a dyspraxic woman with no sense of direction. I eventually found his place at the top of a big bloody hill , and spent twenty minutes trying to crack the intercom, which I can tell you now, was unnecessarily like hacking into NASA , and after aaall that this kid was just like “oh yeah, thanks”.
Is that it?
One doesn’t do good deeds with a view to personal glory (well, not completely) but I was just a bit like “maaate, I’ve just walked up a hill, very much overdressed for the temperature, on my day off, I called your mum, William, at least make a wholesome comment about how there are “still some good people in the world” or something. The whole thing was distinctly underwhelming but it took away the fifteen pounds worth of shame, which had been burning a hole in my conscience and I figured the balance of good and evil had been restored to the world, so I spent some the fiver on art materials on my way home and gave the tenner to charity.
I did pass a homeless man sleeping on a bench , and had the bright idea to slip the tenner into his pocket, imagining him waking up , and like a child opening a stocking, finding it and treating himself to a nice breakfast (or some lovely crack), but unfortunately when I turned around to carry out my plan , his entire bum was out and it scared me so I ran away.
Currently , I am surrounded by doodads and whatsits, crafting up a storm for Estsy. I am definitely procrastinating and I’m really not sure why I’m doing it. I think possibly because I might not ever have got to this point if my auntie hadn’t encouraged me on her death bed to put my idle hands to good use, after a particularly popular round of Christmas terrariums , but also, that makes it somehow worse if I fail. By fail of course, I mean, LuckyGirl falls on it’s ass, everyone thinks I’m mental and I end up wearing fifty of my own necklaces.