I have just 'escaped' upstairs to my lap-top from the insidious effects of watching my favourite jewellery programme and a large whisky and ginger.Today started fairly normally, for me, with a mad dash round to the local surgery for my flu-jab. Mad dash because my appointment was for 9.00 am and I woke from a long and heavy sleep at 7.55.am.
I never, but never, sleep for more than 5 hours at best. Last night I slept for 8 hours! Woke, had the fastest shower in history, dressed, fed the birds and fled the house by 8.50. !
Jab accomplished I returned home, legs aching, had breakfast, then trecked round to the bus-stop, did a huge heavy shop and called a taxi. and called a taxi, Half an hour later legs now aching excruciatingly, I gave the taxi-driver (quite a nice old man) an ear-blasting on the subject of five minutes (promise) turning into 30 minutes (actual). He apologised.. I apologised, it was after all not his fault, and he kindly carried all my very heavy shopping up to my front door. I tipped him!
Shopping away, I had a green tea, in the hope it would improve both my health and my temper.
The cold miserable damp morning had now become a sunny day, so grabbing my trusty secateurs I headed for the jungle.
Half an hour later, back aching, legs aching and no visible difference in appearance of jungle I went back indoors and headed for the bed. Kicked slipper (one missing) off, and lay down to read and rest.
Phone rang, foreign exchange centre obviously, long delay, and the inevitable "Mrs RayBarn ?"
I put the phone down went downstairs and switched on the box. Nothing. Really nothing, so default programme jewellrey programme. After half an hour I could bear the temptation no longer, headed for my trusty whisky bottle, poured a generous (extremely), three quarters of a glass, topped it with the minimum shot of ginger and resumed my goggling.
They were doing a special programme of chameleon Tanzanite which assailed my senses like an advancing army. In real danger of succumbing and actually buying something I downed the remainder (\half) of the whisky and headed up here to confess my weakness to anyone bored enough to read it.
Tomorrow will be better (I hope)
Ray, if I had downed more than a scant half-inch of whisky I'd be too pie-eyed to type at all. You must have a very hard head.:-) I must confess I wouldn't be tempted at all by jewellery, but show me books or kitchen-ware and I have to sit on my wallet to avoid temptation.
ReplyDeleteSorry your day was so tiring, but i'm glad you managed a really good night's sleep for once.
I do declare: you & FR. David (The Vernacular Vicar) need to team up & pen a novel of some sort. Your humor & his are similar, and it always cracks me up to visit. I know I'll learn new words (what is a "secateur" anyway?), and some incredibily funny phrases.
ReplyDeleteAll that said ... I'm so glad your night was restful; no doubt the result of such an honest confession :)
Pie-eyed Perpetua (how's that for the title of a blog)?
ReplyDeleteYes, you're right, I have a very hard head, result of a misspent youth, middle age and now old age.
One of my father's nicknames for me was "asbestos guts"
Not pretty, but accurate.
Luckily I drink only about every 6 weeks or couple of months so my liver survives.
The night's sleep was a stroke of pure luck, very welcome though not well timed.
Kathleen, so glad you get some entertainment from my meanderings.
ReplyDeleteAs for teaming up with David, if we ever did collaborate on a novel, no-one would ever dare to publish it.
I too am grateful for my long sleep, but it was prior to my confession not after, so not really earned.
8 hours sleep. Well done. As a working mother having 8 hours sleep sounds like it's an accomplishment. You needed it didn't you?
ReplyDeleteI suppose I must have done Jane, but it's so many years since I last slept for that long, I felt completely out of sync.
ReplyDelete