I drink tea and pace.

Thirsty pigeons this afternoon. Even though we have had rain at last - not enough to keep the birdbath full.

I didn't walk in the park today.

 But I walked miles in the house. 

Pacing up and down between the kitchen and the dining room, 

pen or phone in hand, 

frown on face, thinking and thinking.

Worrying 

vacillating

changing my mind

uncertain 

confused 

indecisive.

I drink tea. 

I read and re- read the pages and pages of homebuyers surveyor's report,

 which I didn't take in very thoroughly the first time.

I print it out.

Should I get the electrics checked?

Should I get the water tested for Legionnaires?

Who should I ask?

I drink tea and pace.

Should I take one sofa or two with me?

Will there be room in the removals van if I change the inventory?

Should I change my phone supplier if I can't take my phone number with me ?

 Or pay their breaking contract charge and go with another supplier?

My buyer wants one of our pictures. How much should I charge for it?

I drink tea and pace.

The roofer comes and puts a ladder up outside the house.

He says yes there is damp.

But he can't see exactly where it's coming from.

He and his 4 workmen scratch their heads, climb in the loft, take photos and go away,

saying he'll let me have a report.

On and on it goes. Till my head is dead and I'm awash with tea.

I should have gone for a walk instead and let the ducks decide for me.