Monday, 12 December 2016

How's you day been?

Yeh it's a weird photo, but it about sums up my day.

Have I used old Forrest Gump's line, 'Life is like a box of chocolates' before?

Seriously I could be spraying all manner of used up shit here today, cos I rather doubt I'd know Arthur from his good friend Martha, and I sure don't feel like I know up from fucking down.

I've had a bit of a headache for 3 days now. Meds side effect - not too bad and not all the time.

I haven't slept more than about an hour in a row for a couple of days. Meds side effect. The insomnia just makes me even more stupid than normal.

There's a pain in my guts the size of Russia. Meds side effect. Usually goes in a few days.

There are lots of other shitting things that can go on, but I still reckon the biggest pain in the arse is that you just don't know what each day is gonna bring.

So today I was up making beds and washing sheets at about 5 am cos there was little to be gained from lying wide awake just thinking about doing that shit.

Then I felt pretty good so I jumped in the pool to have a little go at some silly arm waving about stuff that can't do any harm, or so I thought. Then when Stevie was up we went off for coffee and as I sat there I started to slide out of awareness of the day. I was tired and not just a little bit tired. Exhaustion slapped me around the head like that ad where someone gets smacked with a tuna, only as it was happening to me, I was not laughing. And I was one great big fucking ache from all that swinging shit.

We headed off to pick up my new seeing glasses and I was making even less sense.

As we are not famine ridden or doing some green shit purge, we needed food for dinner and that's when I lost it altogether.

Stevie: What should we get for Zig for dinner tomorrow night?
Me: Don't know. I'm tired.
Stevie: What about a Pizza, you could blah blah blah blah blab blab.
Me: I'm tired. I can't think
Stevie : Blah blah blah blah

And then he wanted to get some chrissie cards. I walked him to where I thought there might be some nice ones, but blah blah blah.

And then we drove to another shopping centre where I stayed in the car with the air con on and he popped in for a chrissie card look see.

I laid the seat back a bit and closed my eyes. Ahhh.

And guess fucking what! When Stevie got back the fucking battery was dead!

Seriously how the fuck did that happen?

Phone calls were made. Apologies were forthcoming - from me, cos if I wasn't such a lazy twat, I could have gone shopping with him.

The bloke arrived and even though he said the battery was fucked, I still felt like shit.

And then when we got home I had a little shut eye and took off for a massage, cos now my whole fucking body is rejecting the very idea of swinging bits around even in the pool.

Sylvia is a from Hong Kong. She speaks quite heavily accented English which it must be said is very much better than my Chinese. She goes pretty hard at the rubba-dub-dub. And usually I just lie there and have a little siesta.

But today she wanted to chat all things Christmas. I felt like it was possibly inappropriate to ask if she celebrated it, but ask I did, and then she told of how in Hong Kong it really is all about big parties and not much to do with families, but now she was seeing the value of celebrating in the Christian fashion, cos she has just converted to Christianity.

I don't know if it was then that the music got louder or that I just started listening to it more intently. There was hymn after hymn and then I noticed she was singing along, very quietly.

And that's when I started smiling. It made me giggle that this newly converted Christian was full of the joys of the season and was talking it all up with the excitement of children who still believe in the big fat red-suited guy, and there I was, the atheist, face wedged into the hole in the table, whose belly was so bloated that when she was working on my lower back I had to hold in a fart avalanche.

The massage was timed by the hymn sequence of her choice. Good for her.

And when I slithered off the table and threw on my clothes and had a quick look in the mirror to see if I was gonna scare the punters outside, I noticed that my face was red and blotchy. Yep it seems I might be allergic to the little bits of paper rag stuff that she uses to cover the face hole in the table.

And very attractive it looks too.

Surely tonight I am gonna get some sleep.

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