So my day started like any other. I put my contact lenses in, now housed in an upturned Colgate lid because my contact lens pot has, well, gone. It’s gone with one boot and my front door keys (fortunately I have 4 of the latter for this very reason).
I do not recommend this storage method for lenses, especially if you have cats that knock shit over. I already lost a set too soon, waking up to find them dry and crispy on the carpet next to the Colgate lid.
I came downstairs and for the 4th day on a trot asked Tony to ring my mobile as it had gone (no doubt on some sort of rondevouz with the boot and keys). My request was met with simple words, ‘fucking again’.
I tried to find my shoes.Er, they’re fucked. I found them chewed to shit next to the dog’s bone. So when last night I said ‘Argh honey Winston is actually eating his bone’, he quickly progressed to my shoes when I wasn’t looking.
Given his bone is 8 months old I should have been suspicious at his continued interest in it but I just thought he was thinking ‘oh shit yer, my bone, I forgot about that. Nice one’, and muching it all night.
Shoes are a premium at the moment. We have no wardrobes so most of our shoes/all our belongings are in the summer house and you have to pick your pants and shit up from piles on the floor. It’s a good day when there’s no pet nesting on top. We get wardrobes in a few weeks and I just can’t wait to get reacquainted with my stuff and hopefully reestablish a relationship with my boot!
Fortunately I did have another pair of work shoes easily to hand that still had backs to them! I brought them from Clarks a few weeks back but I was so taken by the guy who served me I didn’t focus as much as I should have on the shoes buying process. They’re a bit loose. It’s like I’ve strapped flip-flops to my feet. I had slip ons when I went in and as I took them off I thought christ when did I last cut my toenails coz he’s hot! They were fine but still my feet were unattractive. I am a size 6.5 but I am a 2 in the actual foot and a 4.5 in my toes. It’s like having an extra set of hands. They even look like a pair of hands. Sometimes when I look down at my bare feet I wonder if I’m actually doing a handstand. But they have their uses. I can pick things up off the floor with them. Coins (even a penny the grip is that precise), corks, even a knife. When I first did this when I got with Tony to reduce bend time, he was like that’s so endearing. 8 years on and now my husband he’s like ‘er can you stop doing that funny shit with your feet and pick stuff up like a normal fucking person instead of some sort of person/monkey hybrid’.
I said goodbye to Mr Nut’s arse as it disappeared through the cat flap and I left the house to to walk to the station to catch the train to work.
By the time I met Mr Nut out the front again and said ‘hello Mr Nut’, he was in full cat mode and just looked at me as if to say who the fuck are you?You are of no relevance to me or life on this planet more generally. And then he fucked off.
I got on the train into Liverpool Street. The large lady next to me spilling into my seat and knocking me towards the Isle. So much so I had to over use my right butt cheek to balance and grip on the seat and had one leg extended into the Isle holding myself in place. She was definitely over the mid point line between the seats because when I stood up to take my jacket off there was a definite thigh over hang and it was none to slight.
When the lady occupying a third of my seat got off at Stratford it was like a plunger being pulled out of the toilet. I’m sure the action lifted me up temporarily with her.
At lunch time I spoke to a friend who asked me if the picture of the mouse from my previous blog was one I’d sourced from the Internet. ‘No, it’s the actual photo’. ‘Fuck, do you think you killed it, like actually rolled over onto it’. ‘Shit I didn’t even think about that’! ‘You might have brutally murdered it’. ‘Great so not just potential murder, but brutal murder… Oh god I could have got up with it stuck to my back wearing it like a rucksack’.
I also returned a call to a local animal hospital. I’ve been helping out with a staff disciplinary on a voluntary basis. This could be a blog in itself but all you need to know today is that the person disciplined has made several requests for me to shove things up my arse, lots of things really, lots of times and quite far up I think based on her ferocious tone. Her tone so aggressive I flinched every time time she said ‘shove your job up your fucking arse’and there was definitely above average arse clenching each time she suggested it.
After work, I came home and we got ready to take Winston to his foster carer where he would stay for a week while we go on holiday. As part of this preparation, I tried to put his new harness on him. He never walks on a lead as we live next to a large nature reserve, but I didn’t think his poor disciplined lead walking when he’s not in the fields was fair to inflict on the wonderful lady looking after him. I should have tried the harness out when it arrived weeks ago because it took me a while to fathom it out and I thought I was going to chuck it like the previous two in a big strop. Anyway I wrestled with him like I was trying to take down a large mammal (not the cavalier/toy poodle he actually is). It was like trying to get a thong on a teddy bear. At least I imagine. Thong in place and feeling I could confidently talk through how to get it on him, we took him to his foster carers and said goodbye and I cried quietly on the way home. I love my pooch even if he did have some role to play in the mouse ending up in my bed whom I spent a night with.
When we got back our two cats where on their back legs doing the conga to ‘celebrate good times’ at the absence of the dog. I have 2 cats but I don’t think I’ve mentioned Wills my girl cat yet. That’s because, though only 6 years old she sleeps on the wardrobe all day and only comes down for 45mins a day for a snack, a dump and to demand a shit load of running water from a tap (in that order). She will only drink running water or from a glass. She was clear about that from a kitten. We were so worried about her recently, I took her to the vets for tests. I paid £147 for tests only for the vet to call me a few days later with the results to say ‘there’s nothing wrong with your cat, she’s just lazy and probably drinks so much because she’s in all the time and dehydrated by the central heating’! The vet had been convinced it was serious and for two whole days I cried every day telling her not to give up. She’s still fucking lazy and the only way I know sometimes if she’s alive is to tiggle her whiskers when shes on the wardrobe and wait to see if they twitch.
Willow (Wills) in particular is happy not to have Winston around. He is sexually attracted to her and is either shagging her or pushing her along by her arse hole as he sniffs it over zealously and for a prolonged period. I am always intervening with the arse hole pushing telling him this is not an effective mode of transport for a cat. She is always in wheelbarrow position with her back end held up and controlled by his snout.
Now I should be packing but instead, I’m drinking wine. Lots of wine. Too much wine and reading about how to generate traffic to my blog via Reddit.
Apparently Reddit works on the basis of karma. If someone clicks to indicate they like your blog, you get karma points. If they click to indicate they don’t like your blog you loose karma. If you get into deficit with your karma your account is blocked. All professional bloggers tell you to post pictures of stuff on their first that will build your karma so when you have enough karma you can then post your blog and the credit hopefully cancels out the negative clicks. If you have no karma when you post your first blog just one person clicking they don’t like it can get you band.
Now I should have listened to the advice. Instead, I just went ahead and posted it. Instantly someone clicked to indicate they didn’t like it, I immediately went into the red with khama points and was immediately blocked! I am now thinking of myself as a fat twat!
Can’t wait for tomorrow for holidays!