Because I’m Worth It!

Photo by John-Mark Smith on Pexels.com

Last weekend I made a rare foray into the city centre of Manchester. Recentlyly, the only times I have tended to go into Manchester are when I have been en route to somewhere else. However, last Saturday was different.

My friend, Kath, belongs to a group that meets in a room at a bookshop in the city centre. Some time ago, she invited me to join her at one of the meetings, and we’ve been trying to organise it ever since. Finally, the day was in sight. I was determined to get there.

I planned my trip as best I could. I scoured maps of Manchester and satellite images on Google Earth to determine if I could park in the vicinity of the meeting place. No, I couldn’t: there were pavement markings along with double yellow lines all around the block where the shop is. So, I moved on to checking the public transport options. It turned out that, if FPR dropped me at our local bus station, I could catch the bus into the city and then go on one of the free Metroshuttle bus routes that circle the main business area of Manchester. OK. I was all set.

Saturday dawned and off I went.

When I alighted the first bus, I noticed a shoe shop that I like had a sale so I decided to walk over there. I had oodles of time so it was unlikely to cause me to be late. Hmm, I hadn’t thought it through properly because, when I left the shoe shop, the only option was to continue walking to the bookshop. Hmmmmm. I have to admit that it was hard going but, at least I did manage to get to the meeting.

When Kath and I left the group, she walked with me to the bus stop where we both caught a Metroshuttle bus. I got off at Shudehill Bus Station. Unfortunately, the stop was at the bottom of the station so I had to slog up quite a steep slope to almost the farthest point to reach the stand where I was told to wait for my bus. Unfortunately, the bus didn’t depart from that stand but from the one further up the slope! And, by the time I had stood up and started to walk towards the stand, the bus was just a distant memory! That meant another slog across to the Enquiry Office and back again. I was worried about being able to get on even the next bus. There were no seats at the stand and, if the next bus only stopped for a few seconds like the previous one had, I could end up waiting all night. I was frustrated, angry and anxious, in equal measure.

As it turned out, I did manage to get on the next bus. Someone had sent a colleague over to ensure I was able to board, for which I was grateful.

By the time the bus reached my home town, I was completely wiped out. I rang FPR and asked him to meet me at a different location where I wouldn’t have to walk so far to the car. Even so, by the time I alighted the bus, I could barely put one foot in front of the other. In fact, as well as using my walking stick, I had to hold on to FPR.

You won’t be surprised to learn that I was like a wrung-out dishrag for the whole of the week. I could manage to do some light tasks whilst sitting in the armchair but, apart from those, I was useless. Even going to the toilet wore me out and I had to rest for half an hour or more after every visit just to reach the dizzy heights of ‘exhausted’.

As the week wore on, I began to feel a little fretful about the pile of ironing that was accruing. Let me say, at this point, I am not houseproud. No-one could ever mistake me for any kind of Domestic Goddess but, occasionally, I start focusing on a particular job that needs doing, and, last week, it was the ironing. By the time Wednesday dawned I had decided to see if I could find someone I could pay to do it for me. As luck would have it, that very morning, I had seen a link to a website called Nextdoor. When a quick search of the internet didn’t yield anyone locally, I decided to try my luck on Nextdoor.

Eureka! I posted asking if anyone knew of any ironing service and, within a short time, a lovely lady called Sonia said would be happy to do it. We agreed a price and she called round on Friday to pick up the pile, then she brought it back later in the day. I was so pleased: my ironing was done, I didn’t have to make myself feel even worse trying to do it and I had helped someone who was keen to earn a bit of extra money. It was a definite win for me, which I needed, because I’m worth it.