I was at home, minding my own business when I got a call to go into work to run a game.
Two people had just turned up at the door expecting to be able to just stroll in and play without any sort of prior notice. When things like this happen, or when teams ring up and ask, beg or demand a different start time my immediate thought is how do they get on if they go to the cinema?
Of course, as with any last minute game, it came at an inopportune moment.
I had just gone into the kitchen to start making tomorrow’s tea – a lentil cottage pie. A dish of farts in the making if ever there was one. Filled with nutrition and definitely a lot of fibre, it was going to be a sensation that would really stay with us. Until we opened a window at least. I’d got things from the fridge, I’d cleared a workspace. I was ready to – oh, my phone’s ringing.
So everything just got put away as if it had never been out in the first place. Not for me the absolutely awful smell of dried mushrooms soaking in a bowl. Not for me the gentle sweating of vegetables. Or the boiling of potatoes, grating of cheese and general kitchen based shenanigans.
Instead I went from unwashed in a kitchen to clean and on a bus in twenty minutes. Something which flew in the face of my planned culinary dawdle, taking me into a workd where i needed to be in and set up in double-quick time. Every bus stop grated my nerves, every delay to my journey – none of which had an overall impact on me, but felt like they were – saw a shake of the head.
I’ll try again in the morning…