I was startled awake early by the sound of helicopters flying overhead; it was the Queen and her entourage en route to join in the festivities somewhere. My flat's only the proverbial stone's throw away from the palace, and apparently directly in the Royals' flight path. But as she's usually quite a considerate neighbour (never a peep out of her), I suppose I can forgive her for the early morning racket just this once. Besides, I had forms to fill out, anyway.
I quickly got frustrated doing these, though; but I persevered until I got to the evaluation of the value of my flat. I was stumped. Darn euro! I mean, I could have a stab at it in guilders, but I wouldn't have a clue as to property value in our new and stupid currency. I turned away in disgust. I guess I'm going to have to speak to my neighbours and/or friendly estate agent before I can complete this onerous task.
Despite the rain, I went out and dropped in on my Dad, who's resisting being taken into care now that he's had some time to think about it. There's nothing can make you feel like an absolute and utter bitch as much and as quickly as the sight of your old Dad fighting back the tears while pleading with you not to 'put him in a home and make him lose his independence'...conveniently ignoring the fact that he hasn't been able to fend for himself for years.
As I was in the neighbourhood already, I decided to drop in on my Mum as well; she'd mentioned she had problems installing a printer to her PC, so I thought I'd give her a hand. And my niece was there! I hadn't seen her since - oooh, must be December, so it was a pleasant surprise. I love Soraya. She's 9 now, with her birthday coming up in June; and they grow and change so quickly. Seems like only yesterday she was a chubby little toddler demanding her auntie carry her everywhere...which her auntie invariably did, because as her mother explained to her very early on in her life, "your auntie's a softie". Now she's a fine if somewhat coltish young lady who comes up almost to my breastbone already!
So I set up the printer and spent what was left of the afternoon playing Scrabble with my niece. Mum asked me to stay for dinner, after which I had to hurry home to catch Buffy, episode 7.4, 'Helpless'. I needn't have bothered. Except for JM's brilliance in portraying Spike, so far I haven't seen anything to remind me of why this is or should be my favourite show. A month after the series has started, I can't shake the feeling that I'm constantly being let down in some way.