Days 9 and 10

I apologise to my legion of adoring fans, those slack-jawed folk who hang on my every word as though it was the wisdom of the very Gods themselves. Days 9 and 10, namely Wednesday and Thursday were a mixture of busy and boring so it’s taken me a little while to think of something I could pretend had happened.

On Wednesday, numberly day 9, I took the girl at the station in my arms and ravaged her right there on platform 3 in front of the shocked and no doubt immensely excited commuters. Obviously I didn’t, in point of fact she wasn’t there on Wednesday, nor Thursday and it left a little unfilled, wave and shy smile shaped hole.  The tramp was in his usual place though and as I passed and he began spouting his usual stuff about what a rotten life we are all leading I laid him low with a punch the power and precision of which hasn’t been seen since Ali was  in his prime. When he came around several hours later he apologised to everyone who had ever passed him on the way to their job or home and admitted he was nothing more than a rogue consumed by his hateful jealousy. Obviously this didn’t happen either.

This morning the girl was back and, in what turned out to be my relief at not having missed out on yet another opportunity, my mouth had asked her out for a drink before my brain even knew what it was doing.

Oh dear, it must be a mid-life crisis. If only I had money I’d just buy the damn Ferrari and that would be an end of it.

Day 8

Yesterday I got caught up in one of those conversations that is a little bit of hell on earth. A work colleague backed me and another chap in to a corner and decided to discuss all things politically relevant to the day’s news.

For those of you out of the loop of English news/politics I congratulate your good fortune. Allow me to dent it somewhat though by telling you there i corruption and greed throughout the upper echelons of politics, the media and banking. Also there are strikes planned on bus routes and some train services.

As I say this colleague cornered us and began questioning us concerning our opinions on all these subject in much the way I imagine officials would have questioned citizens during the darkest days of Stalin’s rule over Russia. I felt like if I gave the wrong answers I would soon be ushered out of the office p45 in hand straight to the nearest Gulag.

Normally in these situations I answer not with my personal opinions but with what I hope will be the opinions of my interrogator. Since the cares of adult life began to wear me down in my middle 20s I’ve thought it best not to rock the boat.

This chap though was altogether to insistent and frankly too much of an odious, slightly greasy Tory boy to let it go and after one poke in the ribs too many I told him that I thought David Cameron has the face of a badly filled sausage and the leadership skills to match and that the day when he and his ilk were dragged in to the streets and hung from the lamp posts was fast approaching and I’d be up the front with a nice length of rope myself. With that I took my other colleague by the arm and dragged him away in a conspiratorial manner. He seemed a little frightened to be honest and once we’d made it round the corner he made his excuses and scurried off.

I wonder if this is the start of a mid-life crisis.

I waved at the young lady again this morning and when the tramp announced we are all trudging along like sheep I told him sheep don’t live in houses. That may have been a little harsh but then if you can’t take it don’t dish it out.

If it is a mid-life crisis I’ll announce to the world right now that I can’t afford a Ferrari.

Days 6 and 7

On Saturday I decided not to do anything. Rather I didn’t decide, I just sat staring in to the middle distance. Even the sound of the next door neighbours possibly bouncing on a trampoline wasn’t enough to shake me from my apathetic stupor. Will the hedge ever be trimmed, is it destined to remain the eternally untrimmed hedge?

Sunday we went to a family get together. The family got together.

Watched the Euro Championship final between Spain and Italy when we got in. Don’t know why, I don’t like football.

Incidentally, and I realise this is strictly day 8 information, the young lady waved at me this morning. A shy, wave filled with sexual tension. Maybe my subconscious added the sexual tension?

The Weekend Ahead

Shall I trim the hedge? I didn’t tell the neighbours I would and now it will look odd if I suddenly leap on to a chair just as they start bouncing on their trampoline (if that is what they are doing) There isn’t much point on trimming the hedge if I can’t see what it is they are up to.

That’s all really, Nova is out with Oliver tomorrow so I might do some vacuuming, then again I might not.

Many years ago I was adept at raising hell or at the very least an unhealthy dose of purgatory.

Day 5

Dropped the head of my electric toothbrush in to the toilet. Not the best start to the day. It danced around on the edge of the sink for what seemed at the time to be an eternity and I considered catching it on several separate occasions but it was never the right time.

Nova is out again tonight so it’s a boys night in, Oliver (our son) goes to bed at 7pm though so I’ll probably have an early night with my book.

The young lady smiled again but I didn’t set her straight. If I’m honest it gives me rather a pleasant feeling. I even smiled back, though I did it in such a way that she might have thought I was smiling at something just behind her.

The pleasant feeling was offset by the tramp. He told me I was leading a pitiful existence. Not me exclusively I know but you can’t help taking things personally at that time of the morning.

Day 4

I should point out that day 4 is yesterday, day 3 the day before that and so on. If I wrote about today at this time of the morning I would have nothing to say!

Nothing happened on day 4.

Oh except the girl smiled at me again. Pretty young lady, if it happens again should I tell her I’m not the peron she thinks I am?

Maybe I am though… No I don’t know any pretty young ladies, I’m sure I’d remember if I did.

Day 2

Caught by the tramp this morning on the way to work. I don’t like him, is it wrong to dislike an essentially pleasant, good natured tramp?

Everyone thinks he’s great, people always stop to speak to him, he’s better dressed than I am. He’s a tramp.

He told me to cheer up. He’s a tramp. It’s a very dpressing thing to be looked down upon by a tramp.

It strikes me as I write this that you don’t see tramps in suits anymore. When I was a lad all male tramps wore suits. Is there another name for female tramps? Is there a collective name for tramps?

Saw the next door neighbours yesterday as I was coming in from work, didn’t mention about the hedge after all, don’t know why.

Nova (my wife) asked me to clean the windows, she couldn’t do it as she was going out for the evening to have fun.

Day 1

Funny noise coming from the next door garden, damned if it doesn’t sound like they’re using a trampoline. Can’t be though surely? She’s a big girl and he just doesn’t strike me as the trampoline type.
Maybe I’ll trim the hedge next weekend, good excuse to climb on to a chair and peer over in to their garden.

Visited the doctor Friday, feel like I should probably put him on my Christmas card list now, first time I’ve seen him but feel very close already. I suppose it will wear off in time.
Prescription cost a bloody fortune.
Looked in to my own eyes as I inserted the medicine. They say the eyes are the windows of the soul, if that’s so all hope seems lost.
Funny we all start out with such high hopes and then one day you are 38 and sticking a suppository up your backside. I feel like there should be an analogy hidden in there but there isn’t, it’s just depressing.
They also say that the despair can be stood it’s the hope that kills.
I could stand a little hope right now, the despair is a bugger.

Definitely going to trim the hedge at the weekend, I’ll tell them first chance I get so they don’t think I’m just doing it to get a look in their garden