Balderdash

B is for Balderdash

A comma, a dot, or a hash,

Makes my mind become a mish-mash.

I want to hammer 

The rules of grammar

As to me it's just all balderdash!

Say what? Original image.

Published Princess

What's that? Published Princess???

Yes, you read correctly! I have no idea how it happened - it really is a mystery to me! - but I appear to have gotten myself a publisher for my innuendo-filled Cardiff tale. *is still recovering from shock*

Now, if you are one of my Facebook friends, you will already know this (as I announced it yesterday), but this announcing thing is fun, and surely it deserves a post of it's own on here. *nods* I'll be updating the Cardiffella Blog over the next few weeks with news as and when it happens, but for now, I'll just quickly say that in a little over two months - April 29th to be exact - my prudish pussy(cat) will be unleashed on the world!!

My pussy is going to be famous! Well, sort of...

Who'd have thought that my feline fairy godmother would make it, eh?

More to the point, who'd have thought that a Procrastinating Princess would ever kick her own butt enough to keep querying her innuendo-filled novel? This is why it's a mystery, you see...

Those of you in the know will remember that I wrote Cardiffella way back in 2009 during NaNoWriMo (you know, that crazy event where you write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November). It was great fun - what with the pussy jokes and the obligatory mention of wobbly sausages - but it was also NUTSO when it came to doing it. Particularly since I wrote it between three computers, not a one of them in full working condition. Between the three, there was just about enough to make ONE decent computer. Of course, they all died on me several times (and obviously came back to life), and between THAT and the 'boken keboa' (that was extremely fwuztwatin, let me tell you), it was a truly heroic effort.

But anyway, it was done. And I was proud of myself for not putting it off and actually finishing it. So proud, in fact, that I let it sit on my hard drive for over two years before doing anything with it. *shifty*

Last year I managed to talk myself into fixing it up so that I could submit it to a publisher. I formatted like crazy so that it looked nicer; I cleared up the (thousands of) typos, took a few words out (and added a few here and there). Finally, in September, I sent out two queries. Not being delusional (well, actually, I AM delusional for the most part, but you know what I mean), I figured there was no way it would be accepted (which it wasn't). But more than anything, I wanted a little feedback as to what would be needed to make it publishable, and I wanted the feedback from someone in the publishing game.

To my surprise, although it wasn't accepted, it actually did rather well - making it as far as the acquisitions team, no less. It failed at the final hurdle, which was, while disappointing, also extremely encouraging. Now, this happened in the last week of January - so a mere few weeks ago - and I thought to myself, well, if it made it THAT far, maybe I should just keep submitting. I told myself that I would submit it to another four publishers, and if I didn't get any feedback, then I would work on it some more before submitting again.

At no point, you see, did I think that it was going to be accepted.

So I sent out to another four publishers and heard back from one on the very same day. They told me it was a 'fun idea', and that they 'loved my voice', but as they were already working on  a similar series, they would have to decline.

*sigh*

But you know, that was even more encouraging than the previous rejection. I mean, this time the editor had given me a little feedback, even if it was only a few words. I was resigned, but still feeling pretty good. Surely I'll get a 'revise and resubmit' soon, I thought.

But - shocked and stunned as I was - I got much better! Last Thursday I got an acceptance, and I signed the contract over the weekend. Pretty cool, huh?

As I said, I'll be giving more details on the whole she-bang over on the book blog, but I just HAD to swing by my Procrastinating Princess blog to formally 'come out'.

Onwards and upwards, my friends, onwards and upwards!

Image self-taken.

Summoning Some Silliness

So... I think I need to familiarise myself with my blog again, because, sadly, its been a long time since I've been here. I did a post before about how time seems to be stuck on fast forward the older you get, and LORDY, that was bang on. Where the heck does the time go? Christmas is a month away. A month. And I haven't blogged nearly as much as I wanted to this year.

I seem to have backed myself up against a wall though. Without intending to, this blog has tended to fall in the Nutty Category. Of course, by nature I am a bit of a loon, so this is not a complete surprise, but still... it can be a little daunting knowing that the majority of my followers (if indeed they are still around because I am a bad, bad, procrastinator) usually expect The Crazies when they read my posts. And sometimes, you know, The Crazies won't oblige me. It seems to me, in fact, that when I want a visit from The Crazies, they decide to stay away. This might be considered as helpful for many people, but for Yours Truly, it isn't really conductive to writing something in the Nutty Category.

The thing is, I rarely attempt to write anything amusing, but somehow that's usually how it ends up. When I don't think about it, the words flow through my fingers almost faster than I can type them. My funniest stories/blog posts were written at such a fast pace that it felt as if they wrote themselves. When I went back to read them before posting them, it was like reading something that somebody else wrote. That zone, that lovely state of writing without thinking about it, is a place I really want to establish again.

I've attempted to get back to this zone several times. When I ask for requests, the prompts usually force my brain into thinking of something, and then I tend to try using a slight twist on the request and see where The Crazies take me. This year has been a bit of a doozy for me, though. I've had a few health problems that have definitely set me behind on my goal to be Prolific Writer Of The Year.

It's quite possible that I can put my lack of motivation and general forgetfulness down to my usual procrastinating nature, but in reality these problems have been escalated due to the attack of shingles that I had back in April. While I  have recovered from this, the residual tiredness has not gone away. I am exhausted. Quite literally. I'm still taking a nap every day, seven months after the inital attack. Things that I plan to do are either forgotten about, or pushed to one side because I just don't have the energy to do them.

Thankfully I've still managed to work on my writing projects. Not as much as I would have liked, but enough to say that they are 'works in progress' without feeling that I am lying about it. My fantasy is slowly coming along, and as I've always known this project would take a long time to come together, I don't let it worry me that the word count isn't climbing too swiftly. My Cardiff Fairytales series is also coming along quite nicely. While I anxiously wait out the final few weeks in the sixteen week submission process for the first book, the second story is past the half way mark, and ideas for book three have been dutifully noted.

While I am happy that I'm managing to to mostly keep up with my writing projects, I'm a little sad that I've negelected this blog. I've had so much fun on here in the last couple of years, and I miss it.

So I'm sending out a plea to The Crazies... please come back!!

Image borrowed from here.

Well, Hello Stranger!

Seeing as it's been almost three months since I last blogged, I think we can safely assume that I'm still a Procrastination Princess. And seeing as how I stopped blogging right in the middle of a self-imposed challenge, we can also safely assume that I am a Very Naughty Girl too.

Bluddy 'ell though, some of those challenge suggestions were hard! It got so that every time I came by to try a new post, my brain would freeze for a few moments and then break out in a sweat. A glazed look would appear in my eyes, and I would end up closing the tab and putting it off until 'tomorrow'. A new year has begun since then, and still those challenges have stumped me, so I figure it's best to ramble about something else. That's not to say that I will never complete the challenge, I'd just rather attempt them when not feeling under undue pressure.

On that slightly disappointing note (for me, if not for you), here I am with the first of 2012's blog posts. Nothing very exciting so far, I know, but we have to start somewhere.

I could waffle on a bit about the dire 2012-End-Of-The-World thingy, but that would be predictable (not to mention depressing). I could talk about the fact that I'm whipping my procrastinating butt into gear by entering this year's ABNA, but I know lots of other blogs are full of this competition already, so that would also be predictable.

So how about I wax lyrical (or at least briefly) about the delights of eggnog instead? It's past the festive season, but who cares? Eggnog, a recent discovery, is, in the words of a Taffy, bluddy lush like, innit? Eggs, sugar, cream, cinnamon, and most important of all, rum.

Now, I'm not usually a rum drinker (sorry Mr. Sparrow), but I have to admit that rum, when it is included with eggnoggy stuff, is lurvely. So nice, in fact, that I have decided that it shall not be forgotten about until next Christmas. Eggnog should be a year-round drink as far as I'm concerned. It may even replace - shock, horror, gasp!- vodka as my preferred alcohol of choice. *nogs* Er, I mean *nods*.

Image is mine, my precious, my own!

So yeah, that's what my first post of 2012 celebrates. Eggnog. May the year be filled will many sugar-enhanced rum and cinnamon goodness.

Happy It's-Not-The-End-Of-The-World-2012 everyone!

*is clueless*

Day four of October, and by some strange coincidence, it's also day four of my October Blog Marathon, complete with the fourth suggestion from Maria. Today's ramble really will be a ramble, because the topic for today is, and I quote, "your thoughts on a topic that you are not qualified/have no business discussing (oh I don't know nuclear physics, genomics?)"

Lordy. *faints*

Now, I'm not qualified on thousands of topics, so picking one wouldn't be a problem. But because Maria gave me a couple of options, I'm going to go with one of those. Looking at them, one looks marginally easier to tackle than the other. Not because I have any idea about either of them, mind you, it's just I have at least heard of one of them. Seeing as I have never in my whole life heard of 'genomics', I'm going for nuclear physics (not that I know anything about that, either, but at least the words are vaguely familiar).

So, nuclear physics. Where to start? I have no idea what this is, and because Maria stipulated that I needed to have no knowledge of the topic, I can't go to trusty Wiki to have a look see. I figured because I am definitely clueless, I would split the topic in two (like an atom - maybe that's to do with nuclear physics?)

First I'll ramble a bit about the word 'nuclear'.

I'm a bit of an ostrich really, who is mostly oblivious to what goes on outside the space that is the Tara Bubble. I know, it's bad - I mean, everyone should be at least a little bit aware of what is happening in the world, right? Not so with me, though. It's not that I'm uncaring or disinterested, it's more that I'm way too easily distracted and have always found it better to concentrate on the things closer to home or I would end up worrying about half the world's problems (yes, I'm a natural born worrier too). So to me, when I hear the word 'nuclear', I don't really know what people are talking about, except that it has the potential to be very, very bad, and that scientists from all the main 'power' countries all want to be the first to master it (or whatever term you want to use). I have vague notions of apocalypse-style bombs being made and entire continents being blasted off the face of the earth, that sort of thing, you know. That's it though. I have a feeling that my notions are a little extreme, but I suppose I have a tendency to over-dramatise as well as sticking my head in the sand.

As to the second half of the phrase - 'physics' - well... let's just say that the word actually brings me out in a cold sweat.  Along with my complete ineptness at maths, physics is a subject that just goes over my head. I had the typical 'mad scientist' as my physics teacher in secondary school. Well, I'm pretty sure that he wasn't literally mad, but he just gave off that air of scattiness that all good scientists should (in my humble opinion). I completely frustrated the poor guy, I have to admit. It wasn't that I played around in his lessons, or refused to do any work, I just didn't understand anything that came out of his mouth. For two entire years he might just have well been talking gobbledygook as far as I was concerned.

I remember having one breakthrough in one of his lessons though. I distinctly recall having a strange feeling come upon me one afternoon. I was sat at my table, dutifully paying attention and trying my best to understand what he was talking about, then I almost fell off my stool in shock. Unless I'd been deceived, instead of the usual 'blah de blah blah blah, gurgle gurgle, blah blah' that I generally heard when he talked, my physics teacher actually uttered a few words that sort of made sense. Even stranger, when he asked a question, my hitherto dead weight right arm actually moved in an upwards direction.

It's hard to say who was more surprised - me or the teacher. Nevertheless, he picked his jaw up from the floor and called upon me. I'm pretty sure the entire room was struck silent when I gave the correct answer. To this day I have no idea how I knew the answer, or if my teacher ever recovered from the shock. Alas, this was the one and only time that anything positive happened during a physics lesson for me.

Such is life, eh?

Well I'm pretty sure I've rambled enough for one day, and I definitely didn't say anything that remotely did any justice to the topic of nuclear physics, but I don't think that I was meant to, so it's all good.

See you tomorrow, when I'll be talking about pickles. No, seriously - I will.

Punctuation Fluctuation

I'm just going to dive right in and pretend that it hasn't been three weeks since I last blogged. I'll also ignore the fact that I only blogged three times last month. (That's just so you know that I know how lax I've been).

So, punctuation. The fluctuation part of the title is mostly because it rhymes, but it does sort of make sense too, because I have good days and bad days with punctuation....

Let's just say that me and Punctuation are not exactly the best of friends (I'm not on great terms with Grammar either, but that's another subject for another day). I don't know why I can't get my head around it, but I've never been able to grasp all those bothersome punctuation rules. I can understand the basics, but when we get to the more complicated stuff, I'm lost.

Yes, there is complicated stuff with punctuation. Those of you who find it easy may laugh at this, but it's true. Take apostrophes (I wish somebody would take them, then shove them where the Sun don't shine). Most of the time I get them right, but I know for a fact that when it's a choice between its and it's, I probably pick the wrong one. I've read many explanations about how to decide which way is right, but I either get lost amongst the invariably long words that are used to explain the rules 'simply', or I actually 'twig' when I read it, only to forget all about it by the time I sit down to write something. It's just one of those Black Spots for me, and I don't think there will ever be a time when I don't struggle.

Those apostrophes bugger me up when it comes to names too. Well, not all names, just those that end with an 's'.  I mean, is it James's or James' (for example)? And what about those tricky plural words? I type as I speak usually (well, I don't go the whole hog and type in Taff speak all of the time, only on special occasions *wink*), so if I was saying 'everyone is there', I would naturally take out the 'is' and say 'everyone's there'. But should that be 'everyones' there' or 'everyones there' or 'everyone's there'??? Heck if I know.

And those.... er, I don't even know what they're called, but those series of full stops when a sentence trails off. There has to be a name for them, but I'm on the Heck If I Know fence again. Now, I actually know where these are supposed to go, so that's not the problem. But how many are there supposed to be? Three? Four? I usually go with four, but whether that's right or not is another thing. It's (its?) actually not as bad as it used to be, because when I first started writing a few years ago, there would likely be anything between three and ten full stops whenever I used a sentence that trailed off....

Moving on.

Colons. Ugh. *dies* I never use them if I can help it because unless I'm listing something in the middle of text (which is extremely rare), I really don't know where they're supposed to go. I'm mostly OK with semi-colons, but colons confuse the heck out of me. Oh, and while I remember, when I type 'OK', should that be OK, O.K., or okay? There's that fence again.

One thing I have grasped, is when and when not to use a full stop during speech. Microsoft Word used to drive me nuts because it kept capitalising (capitalizing - z or s? That's another thing that bothers me, those pesky z and s quandaries. I think that might be a spelling thing and not a punctuation thing though, so I won't blather too much about that one today) the words directly after a spoken piece of text. Leanne (my fellow Burrower, who actually inspired this blog post today, by the way, because she fixed up my punctuation errors in my blog post for Burrowers, Books & Balderdash - thanks Leanne!) explained that I needed to put a comma before the closing quotation marks if I wanted to put a 'he said etc' afterwards. Well, she said it it in a far more technical way than that, using several big words that went over my head, but I got the gist of it (shocking the heck out of me), so all was good.

And as for those quotation marks, should it be one or two when typing speech? Or does it really matter? *falls off the fence*

So yeah, me and Punctuation have a strange relationship. Probably not ideal for someone who is frantically trying to polish and edit a novel for publication, but there we are.

Tales of the Unexpected

I was supposed to have blogged two days ago about the similarities and differences between my worldwide friends, but Thursdays are iffy days for blogging, mostly because I usually have company all day. I figured I wouldn't worry about it and blog on Friday instead, no sweat, right?

But yesterday was a strange day. I had no inkling that it was a strange day until around 7pm, but it was a strange day all the same. I followed my usual Friday routine of getting up, making packed lunches for the kids and seeing them off to school. Then I ventured into Canton (the nearest decent place to grocery shop) and stocked up on the essentials for the weekend before returning home and giving the house the pre-weekend tidy up. I managed to quickly write my status short story for this week's challenge (a new thing I've been participating in which requires you to write a short story in 420 characters or less and post it as your Facebook status every Friday).

So far, so good. I mean, I was running late, but that's pretty normal for me so I wasn't worried. I figured I'd catch up with the rest of the online stuff when I got back from the school run. I had my blog to do, I'd planned a little more networking on Facebook, and I wanted to drabble for my writer's group.

But then the day became strange. One minute I was fine, the next I suddenly nosedived into a pit of paranoia and panic. I have no idea why this happened, and I didn't have any of the usual warning signs. It was weird.

Many of you know that I have been suffering with depression for the last five months, and the depression has been the cause of my long absences from not only blogging, but the internet in general. Through trial and error, my doctor finally prescribed me something that, much to my surprise, appears to be working, and my episodic depression seems to be talking a back seat most of the time.  A couple of months ago I was a basket case most days, whereas now I am mostly back to normal. I managed two weeks without a large 'dip', and the dip only lasted a day instead of much longer.  That was last week, and I remember thinking how pleased I was to have gone fourteen days without turning into Mrs Cry Baby.

But yesterday my inner It returned. Now usually I have a day or two's warning; I feel a bit off - still able to function, just not quite right. It's awful, because I know I'm heading towards a really bad day, but at least I know it's coming and I can prepare for it somewhat. Yesterday's re-emergence of It was completely unexpected. The only warning I had was that I was blocked when it came to writing, but because I have always had these blocks I didn't recognise it as a warning sign. By the time I'd put the kids to bed I was antsy. An hour later and I was climbing the walls.

What followed was a couple of hours experiencing a mild panic attack, and a night mostly spent trying to get to sleep, but failing abysmally. I don't know whether it's nerves or something, but when It comes to visit, I spend half the night needing to pee (sorry if that's too much information).

Anyway, I managed to fall asleep eventually, only to be woken up by the 6:30am alarm for my hubby. I knocked it off and within the space of about thirty seconds was deeply asleep again. But then the alarm went off again because I'd hit the 'snooze' button instead of the 'off 'button. My few minutes of deep slumber were cruelly ended and suddenly I was wide awake. Isn't it odd how you can be so deeply asleep one minute, and wide awake the next? I knew I wouldn't get back to sleep again so I got up.

Of course, now I am exhausted and will no doubt fall asleep at some point during the day (if my kids allow it), but on the good side, It seems to be largely absent, so her visit was only a short one this time around. She left just as suddenly as she arrived. Odd, that - but I'm not complaining.

Anyway, that's today's ramble for you. I may yet get to that blogging about my worldwide friends thingy, but I now have this foible where I tend to avoid things that were triggers or reminders of my It moments, so it's not looking likely. It's definitely a Stubborn Thing rather than a Logic Thing, because I know that blogging was NOT a trigger for my inner It visiting, but logic never comes into play when I am playing host to It, so I've given up trying to to reason with Stubborn Thing because I know that I'm never going to win.

And here endeth today's blog thingy.

*is querying questionable questions*

Half an hour ago I asked my husband for some advice. I told him I was stumped for a topic for today's blog, and asked him to give me a subject - any subject - to ramble about. He said 'I dunno'. Bingo. Not the answer I was exactly hoping for, but I thanked him anyway because without suggesting anything at all, he still gave me a subject to blog about. He's a good man, my hubby. *grins*

Annoying questions and answers  - that's my subject for today. You probably all know what I am talking about. Those stupid questions that aren't worth asking, or those answers that don't answer your initial question. Questions and answers so pointless that they aren't worth the effort of opening your mouth and speaking.

My number one annoying answer at the moment is 'surprise me'. There are a few people that I need to buy Christmas gifts for that I am completely stumped on. As a last resort, I'm asking them for ideas, which I think is the sensible thing to do. A surprise is all well and good, but I'd much rather buy something that a person wants or needs rather than give them something random that they will have absolutely no use for. So I ask them, "Can you give me a few ideas for Christmas?" And what do I get? "Surprise me."  (or even the irritating shoulder shrug accompanied by a bored 'I dunno').*bangs head against the wall*. If I didn't want an answer, I wouldn't ask the question!!!

Other exasperating questions.... let me see. Well, there's the incredibly stupid "Are you asleep?" *rolls eyes* Listen up boys and girls, and I'll let you in on a secret. You're never going to get a 'yes' to that question.  Nope. I know it's astonishing, but it's true. Affirmative responses are just not happening.

Then there's the "Are you reading?" Note, this normally only gets asked when you are sat down with your nose buried in - surprise of surprises - a book. *nods*  Duh!!! Yes, I am reading, you idiot, now shut up and let me continue before I ask  'Are you being annoying on purpose, or is that just the way you are naturally?"

Another favorite stupid question is "Are you busy?" Sometimes this question is a decent enough query, but more often than not it is asked when you are up to your eyes with dishes, ironing, and cooking etc. Honestly, does it look like I'm relaxing?  Do you perhaps think that I am not juggling enough chores, and maybe need something else added to the never-ending list of things that have to be done?

The most annoying question though, is something that has probably happened to all of us. Just imagine that you are snuggled up warmly under your cosy duvet, possibly snoring just a little bit. You're dreaming about something wonderful (or maybe not dreaming at all, just blissfully sleeping), lost in the sublime-ness of Snoozeland. Your spouse/sibling/child/housemate (take your pick) decides to impersonate a herd of elephants trampling up the stairs, and then turn their artistic talents towards physical comedy when they crash through the door and knock over an item that is obviously breakable, thus guaranteed to make a very loud noise as it lands on the floor. Your talented spouse/sibling/child/housemate then utters the most irritating question ever invented.

"Did I wake you?"

*pulls out hair*

Honestly, being woken up is not the worst of it, you also have to deal with the slight worry that you might be having a heart attack. And do you know what the silliest thing is about this whole scenario? In your head you are calling this person seven kinds of curse words, and are probably envisioning at least a dozen ways in which you could kill them, but make it look like an accident. While you are imagining these pleasing scenarios, thinking you may be the next best thing to a hit-man, your mouth has turned into the spokesperson for Lame Utd and is uttering something stupid like, "No, I was only dozing."

So yeah, I'm querying these senseless questions and answers. There are probably at least another hundred examples I could have used, but these few are the ones that crop up the most. I would end this by asking if any of YOU have these things happen to you too, but I'm guessing the answer would be a resounding YES, so I won't bother. We definitely do not need another pointless question....

Challenges of the Computer Inept

I have been using a computer for almost five years now (I was a late starter), but I'm still woefully inept. I can manage the basic stuff, but that's about it. I've fudged my way through Blogger, pretending to know what I am doing, but for the most part it's just guesswork.

Luckily for me, the handy 'New Post' box is mostly straightforward. Still, I'm continuing to make mistakes as I plod along, no matter how simple the whole process is (it may be simple to everyone else, but to me it's a complete mystery). For example, I have no idea why it happens, but some days my paragraphs are all bunched together, making it difficult to read. I think it has something to do with when I am uploading pictures, but I'm probably wrong in thinking so. Speaking of pictures, I've mastered the art of having a picture as a header (or even having it placed on the left or the right, wahoo!), but multiple pictures are confusing the heck out of me. I took a stab at it the other day and was marginally successful, but my ultimate aim is to have pictures staggered throughout my blog, sometimes on the left, sometimes on the right. One of these days I will master it.*snorts*

Facebook was another learning curve. One of the main reasons I signed up and then forgot about it was that I had no idea what to do on there. There were so many applications to navigate, plus you had their 'Wall' and other such things to learn about too. When I eventually starting using my account, it took a good month to work out the gist of it, and even now I muddle through on certain things. I changed my language settings at one point, but had to change it back not long after. The settings were confusing enough (for me) in ordinary English, but in Pirate mode it was downright baffling (mangle me litany, anyone?).

Even on my first internet 'home', I had problems, and HPANA is just your basic site with a community forum to navigate. HPANA is actually the easiest site to navigate that I have ever come across, but I still struggled with it to begin with. About eighteen months after I joined the site, I became a moderator for it. Lordy, what a learning curve that was! *snorts again* After four and a half years of membership on there, I still can't answer the technical questions in their help thread. I'm OK with the general "Please can you delete my post" queries, but if someone asks a question about formatting pictures and what-not, I pretend I haven't seen the question. *shifty*

On the other hand, I really enjoy moderating, even when I am stumped. As luck would have it, I moderate three specific forums on there, and two of them are all to do with Fan Fiction. It's the easiest job in the world, and as a bonus I get to read endless fanfic while I'm performing my duties. It just strikes me as funny that I am a moderator for one of the biggest Harry Potter fan sites in the world, and half the time I don't know what I am doing....

But honestly, not knowing what I am doing is pretty normal for me, whether I am at the computer or not. I'm just ditsy that way.

Arghhhh!!

I'm having one of those days today, you know, the days where everything goes pear-shaped. To be honest, the whole year has been like it in one way or another. Almost every day something has happened that has made me want to tear all of my hair out. I've managed to avoid this action so far (the bald look really wouldn't suit me), but I've still suffered with my tresses. I'm only 33, but it feels like every day a brand new, springy white hair appears from nowhere. Grr.

Now, I could digress very strongly about the serious things that have stressed me out throughout 2009, but it's Saturday night, and there's no fun in getting depressed, right? I thought I'd share my top ten list of things that make me go 'arghhh!!' on a regular basis. Things that I have no control over, and things that just seriously do not make any sense at all.

In at number ten is a puzzle which has baffled me for years. Why is it that the countryside has vast amounts of perfectly flat and green meadows which apparently stay like that all year, when if I leave my front garden for more than a month it looks like the Forbidden Forest?

Number nine happens almost every day. Why is it that when I leave the house at 8.45am, I manage to get my daughter to school with five minutes to spare and without having to nag at her, but if I leave at 8.50am I have to practically drag her down the street to even get her to move, and we turn up two minutes after the school bell rings?

Number eight is also school related. My daughter's school lets out at 3.10pm. Most days I am in the yard waiting for her until at least 3.15pm, but on the odd days that I get there at 3.12pm, the teacher looks at me sternly because she has been waiting for me for about ten minutes. Why oh why does this happen??

Number seven happens every day. After the early evening rush of getting the clothes washed and ironed, cleaning up after my three kids (OK, I have two kids, but I'm married, so that makes three, right?) and cooking the meal, I can breathe a sign of relief. I sit down and pick up my fork and..... knock knock or ring ring!! Ugh!!! Every night!! I mean, do you people keep watch and wait until the exact moment when it would be the worst possible timing??

Number six thankfully only happens once a week. The good old Supermarket Stress Workout. Yup, you know what I'm talking about. The queues are miles long and you gamble on which one will be the fastest to move. You spot a checkout with only two people waiting to be served. You check to make sure that it isn't the '10 items or less!' queue, and go for it, smiling smugly at the person in the next queue who has seven people in front of them. Good decision, right? Wrong!!! Because of the two people in front of you, the first is a sweet old lady who insists on paying with the right change and is counting out twelve pounds sixty-five from her hoard of five pence pieces. The second person, when they eventually get served, starts ranting because 'those peas were marked up at 25p, not 26p! I demand to see the manager!' I'm gritting my teeth as the person I smugly smiled at is grinning madly at me from the other side of the checkout - the seven people in front of her were obviously contenders for the Fastest Customer of the Year. Hmmph.

Number five is lottery related. Say I picked the following numbers: 4, 20, 23, 26, 35, 39 and 42. You can almost guarantee that the numbers 5, 21, 24, 27, 36, 40 and 43 will be drawn (or 3, 19, 22, 25, 34, 38 and 41).

Number four - buses. They run practically perfectly every day, bang on time. But if I need to catch a bus I end up waiting for half an hour or more. Grr.

Also bus related is number three. Every bus has a nut on there. That really odd person who smells of wet cat, takes five minutes to find their bus fare and usually gets on the bus at the stop after me. That person always sits next to me, and I am then subjected to their life story. Why me??

Number two is similar to number three in that it's to do with odd people. If there is a nutter on the loose, whether in the supermarket, on the bus, or on the street, they'll be talking to me faster than you can say 'Jack Robinson'. Honestly, I'm just a magnet for them. Sometimes it's kind of sweet, especially if it's an older person who really isn't nuts at all, just rather lonely. But more often than not it's that sweaty guy whose eyes talk to my chest and who laughs nervously every time he stops to catch his breath.. *shudders*

And number one? The thing that makes me go 'arrrggghhh' most often? Losing stuff. Or more specifically, losing writing stuff. I can't tell you how many times I've typed pages and pages, gone through it painstakingly for typos and grammar etc, saved it as normal and smiled happily at my accomplishment. Seconds later one of three things happen : There is a power cut, which manages to shut my PC off before the saving process has completed; one of my kids (or my cat) decide that it is the perfect time to jump on me, and they manage to hit a button which somehow manages to erase everything (don't ask me how that works, but it's happened to me several times), or my PC decides to shut down all by itself. Hours of work gone in an instant. Ugh.

So there we have it. My list of ten things that make me scream with frustration. They're not serious, or life-threatening, but they don't half annoy me. Whoever said that 'these things are sent to try us' needs a swift kick up the butt. Maybe I'll get Strange Sweaty Guy to do it for me.