Been feeling a bit blah the last few days, since Thursday really, which was one of those revolting days where you run around doing little, boring, bleak, uninspiring things all day. Unfortunately this weekend was blah and rainy, and we were stuck inside the entire time. Never a good recipe for a refreshing, recharging weekend.

The gory, admittedly rather boring, details of Thursday:

Driving home Lauren phoned to surprise me with the news that Robyn's new bedroom cupboards had been half installed. This was odd as they were supposed to come on Friday. (Peter's parents had picked up the kids that day as they were down for their weekly visit.) It wouldn't have mattered that the cupboards had come early, only I hadn't told Thembelihle (who cleans for us in the mornings) that they would be coming, and I have tried to impress upon her the importance of not letting people onto the property unless she knows to expect them and knows exactly what they are coming for. I thought I had got through to her, but apparently not, as she had just let them in without checking with me. Felt weird to be living in a country where this is an issue.

Then I went out to do some errands including buying my Dad a late birthday present (a retort stand, which he was truly euphoric to receive, by the way - and they do look rather fine, so now I want one too) and calling in at the curtain place to pay the balance for the curtains. Though they are very nice and friendly, I can't shake the feeling, while being in that sort of place, of being a child imposter in a grown-up world. Shouldn't this feeling have subsided by the age of 36?

I stopped at home for a quick bite to eat, and then had to try to comfort Robyn (now home from school) who was not, in the end, selected to say her poem in the parents' cultural evening. She was pretty disappointed about it, as she put a lot of effort into it. It seems wrong, at the age of eight, to work so hard for something, be so enthusiastic, and not be able to participate simply because some individual's subjective opinion (Mrs Twit's) meant that two other children out of a class of 25 were chosen instead.

After that it was time to take Daniel to the doctor, as once again he is permanently sniffy and coughing, not sleeping well, etc. As always, there was the regular encounter with the witchlike receptionist, who feels that I chose to have a different surname from my kids for the express purpose of bothering and confusing her (it's always an issue because the medical aid is in my name whereas for a lot of the other kid-related things I just go by his name now - people assume it and I don't bother to correct them). After the obligatory long wait, we eventually saw the doctor (she, at least, is lovely) and after examining Danny, and having a long discussion about his history, she made out a prescription as long as my arm. When I went to the pharmacy to get the first month's lot, it came to over a thousand rand. Rather overwhelming. Also, I now have to go through the rigmarole of trying to get him onto our medical aid's chronic medication plan, as these medications are supposed to be on-going - the current script is for six months.

While in the pharmacy, I ran into a friend and tried to make pleasant small talk while we waited - I for my script and she while they had a look at her maid's arm - her maid had been slicing butternut for my friend's mom and had cut her thumb, and my friend was wanting to know whether she needed to take her for stitches. And that made me feel weird to be living in a country where middle class people, including some of my friends, don't even slice their own veggies for dinnner. It was not a good day to run into someone either, as I looked tired, harassed, and rather grimy for some reason.

The joys of the day were not over, as I was half way across the parking lot and remembered I had said I would buy a homeless boy something to eat. Back we went to the shop to pick up a pie and some bread (more feeling weird about where I live), and then (finally, both Danny and I had had enough by now) we ran into another aquaintance that I was in touch with a few years back, originally, when our daughters (aged 2 or 3) were at playschool together. This was also not a pleasant encounter, as it was a relationship in which we sort of drifted out of touch. I had realised we really had very little in common, and then our daughters became less friendly with each other, and that was it (this was about two years ago). She made no attempt to get in touch with me after I had initiated the final playdate, and I knew that her mother had been ill (after a stroke) and when I ran into her on Thursday she looked so tired and stressed and it turned out she had spent almost the whole of the last two years looking after her paralysed mom, and had just put her into a frail care home.

I hope the sun comes out soon, or at least by the weekend, as we are off to Joburg for the long weekend. This will be a nice break. We will spend the weekend with some friends who moved there about a year ago, and also see some other friends who live there.

Got to go now. I am being dispatched to a new client.