School Report Circa 1970-something:
"Denise sometimes incurs the wrath of her classmates with her organisational skills."
"Denise is a bossy little girl."
Well, things haven't really changed in the last 40 plus years. Except I have learned to internalise my bossiness so mostly the only person aware of EXACTLY how bossy I am being is me. Honestly, sometimes it gets really quite loud inside my head when I'm having particularly bossy- focused days. And I also think if there is anyone with whom I have the absolute right to be bossy and anyone who will put up with it and probably answer back, then that person is me!
Like today. Today was a VERY bossy day. It was my fortnightly day off. And generally on these days I am my own company and I enjoy this. I like being able to potter around indoors doing this and that, and sometimes the other, with the excuse that it is too cold/ wet/ windy/ full of zombies outside to do much else.
Except today was glorious sunshine.
'Go outside,' said my Bossy Self. 'There is stuff to be done out there and the weather is fab. Gone on!'
Well, I definitely knew I had to go and get a haircut from somewhere because the lady who usually cuts my hair at home is currently indisposed and not hairdressing at the mo, and over the last couple of weeks I have been taking on increasingly the look of a deranged cavewoman.
So I took myself into town and went to Supercuts where you can just march in and say, 'Tame my bob, will you please?' and a nice hairdresser obliges thusly. I went in at 9.10a.m and was bob-tamed, trimmed and smoothed by 9.50. Just the kind of briskness us Bossy Highnesses like.
'Right, now go and get a quote for a new front door,' said my Bossy Self. 'You might as well, since you're out and about. And it needs doing. You know how much you swear about it every time you use it.'
'But I want to go home and read,' said I, but protest was futile and I ended up at 'Fineline Windows, Doors and Conservatories' where I failed to gain entry to their showroom despite it having 4 doors.
Finally, someone saw me with my nose pressed up against the window and let me in.
'I'd like a quote for a front door please,' said I.
'When would it be convenient for our representative to call?' said the reception lady, her pen hovering over the appointment sheet around the middle of next week.
'Today,' said I.
'Today?' said the reception lady.
'Yes,' said I. 'Today would be most convenient.' And I smiled and added, 'Thank you,' just to reinforce I was quite determined to get my quote today. Sometimes it pays to be bossy, for the sales rep arrived at 3.30 and duly quoted a price that was £350 more than exactly the same door from a small local firm. But I am glad I got a second quote. It is the proper thing to do.
At home I tried to sit down with a cuppa and a newspaper but Bossy Self had me out on the driveway cleaning the car. Okay, yes it needed doing. I park under a tree at work and trees = birds = poop. Plus there was something looking suspiciously like moss growing along the back bumper and I really don't think cars should produce their own flora.
'Whilst you're out here,' said Bossy Self, who was on a right roll by now, 'you can pot on those seedlings.'
My flower seedlings, sown 12 days ago, had all gone crazy-grow mad and so needed pricking out. Still, it was nice out in the greenhouse, all warm and sunny. And I did a bit of singing as I tended to the seedlings. And admired the garden which is starting to look jolly good as we head into Spring.
Finally, I managed to get back inside.
'It's no good you sitting there thinking you're going to do a spot of novel reading,' said Bossy Self who really should have packed up and gone home for the day. 'You need to sort out your box file. It hasn't been done for MONTHS!'
She was right, of course. Bossy folk usually are. We don't generally go around asserting ourselves in a loud manner unless we are 99.999% certain we are right about stuff. If we aren't 99.999% certain, we stay hushed.
My box file is where I keep all household and financial paperwork. I keep filling it up until it is fit to bursting at which point I go through the entire contents and either bin, burn or re-file in the concertina file where stuff that must not be destroyed under ANY circumstance is kept. So I got on with the job, reduced the contents of the box file by around two thirds and had a mini-bonfire in the woodburner.
And then it was time to cook dinner.
My Bossy Self is still chuntering away even now. Something about sewing, possibly knitting? But I am going to mute her volume button. I am going to have a quick shower, get all jim-jammed up and get stuck into that novel that has been calling to me all day. Well, it is cold and wet and dark outside now. And I am sure I heard a zombie pass by, too.