Overload and Infidelity

My mind is buzzing today, like a directionless, demented bee. I have too much to do and can’t decide how to prioritise my workload because I’m waiting for various replies from people. Just to make matters worse, when I sit down and try and concentrate on my course, my mind flits to character studies of the novel that I started doing.

I should be working towards a feature for my next assignment but I can’t get my brain to slow down enough. The words dither around in my head before flying out into the garden where they sit, flapping their wings on the washing that drifts, lethargically, in the breeze. Even the sky is a lazy blue.

Last night we were talking about a friend of Himself’s who, many years ago, had a very Open marriage.

‘He made it very clear that he and his wife slept with whoever they wanted,’ said Himself. ‘He said he always dreaded that knock on the door and someone standing on the doorstep saying Hello Father.’

That never happened (he has two legitimate daughters) but one day Himself and the wife were walking back from the pub when she made it very clear that her current lover was about to move on and she wanted a replacement, and that Himself would do.

‘What did you do?’ I said, trying to imagine a bloated middle aged woman groping Himself - tall, angular, younger man.

‘Shag her?’ cried Himself, outraged. ‘I wasn’t that desperate!’

I only hope he didn’t say that to the husband. He might not have been too flattered.