Friday, October 21, 2011
Tick, tick, tick.
The hormone-induced crazy has officially set in.
I walked past the window of the op-shop today (after going in, of course.. I can't pass a second hand store by!) and spotted this clock. It's beautiful, right? It had a tag on it that said it worked perfectly, had the winding key etc, and it was even fairly cheap. Any clock lover would have been sold on it.
And that there is the problem, I don't like clocks. I don't like the ticking! I can't stand it, in fact.
(And, to make things worse, this one chimes every fifteen minutes?!)
BUT I knew, the minute I saw it, that I needed this clock. It called my name. It was like fate. And I wasn't going to feel happy until I had it in my sweaty little mitts.
That, my friends, is how I know that the pregnancy insanity seems to have well and truly arrived.
Now that I have this noisy wee clock in my house, I need to figure out quite how on earth to get it to tell me the time. At the moment it seems to tick in double speed, and chimes a different time than it shows. Do of you happen to secretly be clock experts?