Perhaps I should have thought about it first

I have been muttering and grumbling about the round table in the middle of the kitchen.  It's become a clutter magnet, a bit of a block in my efforts to get the house back in shape.  There are things lurking under that table that would make Stephen King blink.

I had another bad night, I suspect PMT is at work and I feel like an over used dishcloth.  Speaking of which, the reusable washing up sponges are a bit of a disappointment.  They have gone through the washing machine okay and the rough bit and the smooth bit are still fine but the squishy bit in the middle isn't very squishy.  I still do a fair amount of dishwashing by hand, despite having a dishwasher, so it is a very mild annoyance.  I shall have to train myself to like cloths instead of sponges and keep reusing.

And yesterday I didn't see any of the 'bears don't travel on buses' posters.  There was a campaign recently to try and persuade people that travelling by bus wasn't scary.  However all the posters I saw were on the actual bus.  And people seeing them on the bus would have know that there were no bears on the bus.  There were no oversized paw prints, empty pots of honey or suspiciously long strands of brown fur.  It probably wasn't reaching the target audience of those who didn't travel on buses.  Here's one of the tags:

I suppose it's alright if you live near a reasonable bus route.  If you live on an unreliable, infrequent and expensive bus route without a car then bears are probably the least of your worries.

If I was a cat, my ears would be on sideways.  I am 'that way out'.  There were a lot of ways I could have expressed it.  However I settled for dismantling the kitchen table.  That bit was really easy, I suspect that the table was built up by a gifted amateur and it was just held together with wing nuts.  The legs definitely didn't match the top, they looked more like the upright bits on a banister.  They were easy to take out to the bin.

About half up the steep, slippy concrete steps, trying to roll and drag the heavy, solid top, I realised that I may have made a mistake.  I was stuck, in the sleet, with something that was probably heavier than bear and a lot more awkward to drag.  I really should have thought before trying to get it out.  There are so many ways it could have gone wrong.  I could have slipped with it, slipped under it, or even just dropped the wretched thing - and it is heavy enough to damage the kitchen door.

I managed to get it up without damaging myself or anything else - here it is, the same height as the wheelie bin.  Now I can take my mood out on the kitchen floor and we can start using the much smaller fold down table I got a few weeks back.  After I've dealt with all the rubbish that was under there, of course.