A little over a week ago, nearby neighbours put a note through the door advising they were having a party the following weekend. They gave the date, apologised in advance for the noise, and said it would finish by midnight at the latest.
I have a real thing for good manners, so they pretty much won me over with the simple courtesy of letting us know. Somewhere around 12.40am, with my bedroom still reverberating to the thunderously loud sound system, I confess my goodwill had waned somewhat!
It couldn’t be heard so clearly in the living room, so I started to debate sleeping on the floor down there. Certainly the last time I’d done so, I slept really soundly…
Except, wait a second. No, I didn’t! One way or another, I had a dreadful night’s sleep! At a guess, I’d say the pieced together patches of dozing amounted to a couple of hours at best.
So why did I remember it as having been fine?
Well, in a word, I lied. Very, very rare for me – I have an unfortunate pathological honesty streak – but necessary in convincing my beloved 75 year old mum there was absolutely no room for debate over whether or not she’d take the bed when she came to vist!
I remember reading somewhere that the words we use can dampen or amplify our feelings toward something, but they’d made no mention of being able to completely overwrite reality with idealism! Interesting to realise quite how strongly the language we use can affect our experience of life…