Maisie's Lists. Mother. Brit Awards. 13th February 2008

Today, I found this next to the computer:

List Of Things To Do
1. Get drest, brush hair and teeth
2. Half an hour bifor lunch do rabbit, includes feed, clean out and overe all care.
3. Just in the middle of 6 and 12 do all home work, includes crities, piano just that.
4.Eat super ext water and go to bed.

I found this blu-tacked to Maisie’s bedroom door:
Weekend Things To Do
Saterday: I get up, dress brush hair, do teeth make bed and tidy up.
2. Have bran flakes for brakefast.
3. wach a little bit of TV
4.. Do some drawing of nice things.
5. Go on the computer till super.
6. have super with out fuss go to bed after.

Sunday: I get up dress, brush hair do teeth and make bed and tidy up.
2. Have bran flakes for brakefast.
3. Wach a little bit of TV
4. From 03.30 to 05.30 do homework.
5. Go on computer till super time.
6. eat super go to bed early ready for the week ahead (lay out clothes)
I am worried that her life has become dull, repetitive and routine. Zac says we never do anything fun or exciting. He is still asleep and it’s 10.33 am  I have to be here at 3.30 pm to pick Maisie up from school so it’s quite a short window of time to do anything fun or exciting. This weekend we will do things that are fun and exciting and include the children.
I just got a text from Claire. ‘We have received offer of 825 Paul wants 840. Please advise.’
I texted  back ‘Who from?’ We don’t want any more of those ghastly people who send there children to private schools and get all their shopping delivered by Ocado moving into the area.
She texted back “English professor and writer on Times.’
Sounds Ok... 
I texted back ‘Ask for 835, say you can’t afford to move for less. They may drop offer after survey.’
I should have told her to hold out for 850, then they would have lost the house in Stalybridge and would have had to stay here. I don’t really want Paul and Claire to move. Maybe we should buy a flat in Stalybridge, it’s probably very cheap.

My mother rang. She has no clothes at all. In fact, she has so few, she dyed some trousers I gave her two years ago. She is coming to London to stay with her sister, May, and to go shopping. I tell her there is a lovely exhibition on at Tate Britain. She says ‘Will you come and fetch me from May’s ? Come for lunch.’ She says. 
‘I don’t really do lunch.’ I say. She bursts into tears. ‘ ‘Tell your daughter that if she doesn’t eat properly,’ she says ‘I will starve myself to death. I haven’t had a drink for 9 days now and I am very thin.’ she says. 
‘Well, for goodness sake have a glass of wine.’ I say. ’You can’t expect to live in the depths of Cornwall with no clothes and no alcohol.’
She is coming to London next week. Maybe I should give up alcohol too, although I shall have to take it up again for The Brit Awards I couldn’t possibly do The Brits sober. Everyone else snorts cocaine but I don’t know how to and would probably sneeze and anyway it makes you talk rubbish and I talk rubbish without coke. 
Actually I am afraid of The Brits. I will probably have to wear that dress from Whistles that is too young for me. I will have to sit next to a scary PR from Republic Media with Rouge Noir lipstick and we will instantly run out of things to say to each other.
I wonder where you get cocaine from.
Zac went out today  with his friend Ned.  Ned and  he have resolved to ‘discover’ London with their Nikons He rang me just now. ‘How do you get home from the London Eye?’ he said.
‘You walk to Waterloo and take a bus.’ I said.
‘We’re north of the river though,’ he replied, ‘facing the Eye. Should we turn left or right if we want to go towards the Tate Modern?’ 
Blimey, and he’s lived in this city  all his life. You can’t blame Ned as he is from Hampstead which is not London but Guildford or Chichester like Blackheath. 
‘Left, left, left.’
Zac is still not home, when should I worry ?